At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. "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. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change.
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