She wished that from the moment when next she waked she might never come across a single thing which could recall him to her memory.

And with a sort of stubborn persistence she went about the work.
But she changed her mind.

In the very process of collecting together the gifts which he had made to her she changed her mind.

For each gift that she looked upon had its history, and the days before this miserable night had darkened on her happiness came one by one slowly back to her as she looked.

She determined to keep one thing which had belonged to Harry Feversham,--a small thing, a thing of no value.