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Updated: September 14, 2025
Sometimes she give me an answer and sometimes she wouldn't. She was very secret. She wouldn't say where she come from, or who her friends were, or what her name was. She said she should never have name or home or friends again. I just quietly stole a look down at her left hand, and saw that there was no wedding-ring on her finger, and guessed what she meant.
Thus he did not perceive the uncontrollable bewilderment which appeared on his companion's face. "Wedding-ring!" she murmured. "He sends it back again to you," explained the Captain, still busy with the candle. A long-drawn "O oh!" came from her lips, its lengthened intonation seeming to express the dawning of comprehension. "Yes, of course," she added very hastily.
I can still see her rosy face buried in that big pillow, the curls of fair hair escaping from under the lace of her little nightcap. With her left hand she held the counterpane close up under her chin, and I saw on one of her fingers the new and glittering wedding-ring I had given her that morning. She was charming, a bird nestling in cottonwool, a rosebud fallen amid snow.
They walked close to each other, and she looked with the utmost tenderness into his face. She evidently was not yet entirely accustomed to the wedding-ring which I observed on her finger. I think that tears came to my eyes at this sight.
I won't say that this rushing huckleberry hail-storm has not more music for me than the "Anvil Chorus." I wonder how my great trees are coming on this summer. Where are your great trees, Sir? said the divinity-student. Oh, all round about New England. I call all trees mine that I have put my wedding-ring on, and I have as many tree-wives as Brigham Young has human ones.
Hope she was decently insured. And you're none the worse?" "Not a mite!" laughed Saltash. "How are you? As skimpy a bag of bones as ever?" "Oh, dash it! I've grown!" protested Bunny. "I'm as tall as you are anyway." "Oh, you're long enough," chaffed Saltash. "But you're too damn slim! I should think Maud could get you through her wedding-ring if she tried."
I can still see her rosy face buried in that big pillow, the curls of fair hair escaping from under the lace of her little nightcap. With her left hand she held the counterpane close up under her chin, and I saw on one of her fingers the new and glittering wedding-ring I had given her that morning. She was charming, a bird nestling in cottonwool, a rosebud fallen amid snow.
The gown was of clinging grey cashmere, cut with simplicity and dignity, with touches of soft violet to suggest sensitive inner feelings. The hat was of grey straw with willowy feathers drooping softly from it. She wore no jewellery beyond a simple pearl brooch and her wedding-ring. Dressed thus, she felt ready for any cruelty.
He had never given her any gifts at all save the Maltese cross in her childhood and her wedding-ring. As for the ring, it had never occurred to him that she could not wear it save in the stillness of the night, unseen by any eye save her own.
Nearly an inch in width, there was no ornamentation of any sort on its broad, smooth surface. "Do you know what this is?" Rupert turned the circlet around in his fingers. "No." Ricky was still dangling the earrings before her eyes. "It is the wedding-ring of the Bride of the Luck." "What!" Val leaned forward to look down at the plain circle of gold.
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