"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. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. And then all her restlessness was turned to joy. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. Harkee," he added, "Mr. "That's tremendous!" he cried.
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