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 could have fetched me home. . Stanley in person. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. ” “How can you say such things?” “But he would!” “Still, it isn’t your place to say so.
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