’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. "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.
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