Anna went out. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. All that is jolly and as it should be. 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. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. ” For a time there seemed no comfort for her even in Capes.
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