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He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. Indeed, she did not want to think of him as loving her. He had not had time to aim the pistol. 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. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned.
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