The rest of his attire was nondescript. The night was now profoundly dark. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. You can test it out on us this Thanksgiving Sunday.
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