The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. “Lucy. ” Ann Veronica sat over her fire with her father’s note in her hand. "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. “You’ve grown out of them.
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