"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. The south-east end of the island was hillocky, with volcanic subsoil. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers.
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