"I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. ” She smiled. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. Stonily he had disengaged himself. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. He is a knight. " "I'll give you something better worth keeping," she answered, detaching the ornament from her neck, and presenting it to him; "this contains a lock of my hair, and may remind you sometimes of your little sister. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream.
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