We must always move on. A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. ’ ‘But tell,’ demanded Melusine impatiently. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. Tears sprang to her eyes. 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. She was going through with that, anyhow. But most of all, I wanted to love.
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