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. ’ ‘Yes, but if it is only we that know, it is of no use at all to me. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features.
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