" "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. ” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. ” “Wait,” she said. She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. That was an admission all right. Rummage, my boy, do. But we smirk a little, I’m afraid, habitually when we talk to you.
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