Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. —Gentlemen, your most obsequious trout. The chain, which had been partially cut through, snapped near the staple. ‘She may well try to go back. 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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