Spurlock has gone. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. An influence of this description appeared to be exerted on the present occasion. "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.
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