It would be swindling. Abruptly would come the end. A cup of lies. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. 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 had found two copies of the magazine and carefully cut out both photos. "Perhaps he means well. She had had two days of employment-seeking now. She held out her arms to him and smiled. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely.
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