Anything that drew attention to her must be avoided.
She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place.

It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford.
She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed.
A dozen books lay upon the counterpane.

Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child.

Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within.

All these wonderful comrades, henceforth and for ever hers.