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I won’t even ask. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. . "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. "It is the voice of inspiration," said Thames; "and I receive it as a solemn command. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. Since then he has persistently annoyed me.
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