Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. "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. Did you grow up at the Valade estates? You were born a Valade, I take it, even though your father is English.
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