” “I borrowed it,” said Ann Veronica in a casual tone, with white despair in her heart. 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. Michelle walked towards the sloping Victorian stairs. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. Sheppard had been interred.
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