“Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. "Then it is not too late to save him. " Exclamations of wonder burst from all. "I am so excessively fond of snuff. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty.
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