She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. 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. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Though, to be fair, he did not know of it until after the wedding.
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