"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 commissionaire smiled. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall.
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