"I must break it." With one effort he prised up the cover, but the hinge snapped, and the lid rolled across the table into Barebone's hand.
"Ah!" he cried, in that breathless silence, "now I remember it.

I remember the red silk lining of the cover, and in the other side there is the portrait of a lady with--" The Vicomte paused, with his palm covering the other half of the locket and looked across at Loo.

And the eyes of all Royalist France were fixed on the same face.
"Silence!" whispered Dormer Colville in English, crushing Barebone's foot under the table..