He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. 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. I hung around Harvard a little when you were there. You would find things to laugh at even in Artemus Ward. Challenge accepted.
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