Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. They’ve just got to keep white.
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