They had, no doubt, once been valued for the giver's sake; dainty hands had touched them; the locket had rested on somebody's white skin.

They were pledges of trust and affection, and he had found them, trampled by Charnock's heavy boots, among the dust and rubbish.
"You'd get on faster if you used a brush," he suggested.
"Can't find the brush.

Confounded thing's hidden itself somewhere.

Can't remember where I put anything to-night.

Suppose you don't see a small lace handkerchief about ?" Festing said he did not, and Charnock made a gesture of resignation.
"Looks as if I'd burned it with the other truck, but I got that from Sadie, and there'll be trouble if she wants to know where it's gone.