"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. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. ” Anna laughed outright.
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