277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. Loneliness. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. ’ The girl glanced up the road and turned back, annoyance in her face. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under his arm, and planted himself near the stone. " "I'll give you something better worth keeping," she answered, detaching the ornament from her neck, and presenting it to him; "this contains a lock of my hair, and may remind you sometimes of your little sister. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her.
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