She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. “I don’t know, John. I want to enrich it with hangings and gladden it with verses. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. I know life. She pulled him by his tee shirt, pulling his mouth to her nipple. The sharp point of the sword at the girl’s throat bit sideways. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. 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.
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