Good night. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. “Well, because I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged.
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