There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. “We are clerks in the same bank. "I am content," said Jack. "I can't say I did," replied Wood, somewhat reluctantly; "what with the confusion incident to the storm, and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it was too late. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. ” Miss Miniver’s manner became impressive. "You," answered Jack, abruptly. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story.
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