She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. "Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. ” “It’s dreadful for you to be here,” he said, indicating the yellow presence of the first fog of the year without, “but your aunt told me something of what had happened. . There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate.
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