62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. 1703. We are nuns. In the middle there was a gate. That is the dreadful truth. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. "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. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. "Quick.
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