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. That knot also would be cut. ‘Well, I thought as how someone in the house in Paddington might see me hanging about outside like. She followed the official back into his room. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. But you must tell her. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle.
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