He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. ‘They weren’t no soldiers. "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. The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres. He was suddenly calm.
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