She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. He listened. "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. I'll do anything in reason for you, old top; but no pig in a poke. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females.
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