"Get a chair, Austin. For a moment she remained silent. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. You are always doing something for nothing, and that is why I love you. " "Well, that's a hopeful sign. One day I can be a Gothic chick, and the next day I’ll be Hitler Youth. 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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