It had always touched Christine's imagination as a child.

Some native instinct in, her made her prize it beyond everything else.

She used to make up wonderful stories about it, and tell them to Sophie, who merely wondered, and was not sure but that Christine was wicked; for were not these little romances little lies?
Sophie's imagination was limited.

As the years went on Christine finally got possession of the medallion, and held it against all opposition.

Somehow, with it on this morning, she felt diminish the social distance between herself and Ferrol.
Ferrol himself thought nothing of social distance.