It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. "He has passed this way," cried Jonathan, exultingly; "I have him safe enough. Like the flaws of an old marble.
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