Ophelia has certain remembrances of Hamlet’s that she longs to keep for herself, but just as the prince is not only one man, the things he gives away are no mere objects. She thrusts the letters away from her without looking because she cannot bear to see his face when he realizes what is being done to them both.

“I never gave you aught,” he says with an attempt at derision, and she knows it for the promise it is – if there is nothing to be returned in the first place she can keep the memories for as long as she likes.