Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. But she did not in the least want to do that. So he found her when he came round the corner of the spinney. 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. “Why?” “I still love you. Her pa was only the smithy. Lucy could sense her mental resolution to nip Michelle’s burgeoning obsession with the occult in the bud.
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