But after Singapore she found herself enduing them with the characteristics of the heroes in the novels she had just read for the first time. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. 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.
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