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"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. Ennison reeled, and almost fell. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well.
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