He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. “Will he die?” she asked. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone.
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