"I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. At a turn in the road, he perceived Winifred looking anxiously towards him, and when she discovered him, she waved her hand. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror.
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