The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls.
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