"This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. But she was relentless. . " "Don't mention such a thing, Sir," interrupted the tapstress. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict.
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