“My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Altogether, it was the most dreadful noise he had ever heard. More importantly, she had her wits. 1. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head.
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