She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. Leave me my blanket! I'm very cold at night.
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