“It was inevitable,” he declared. "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 ought to be able to think things out. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. It was impulsive and natural. ‘I must.
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