Because every mistake you make, for every new mishap, Joe, I take a finger. "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. White gasped, and then stiffened. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. She bent down.
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