Then enter Mr. 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. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. Anna and her escort exchanged glances. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. It depresses one, you know. CHAPTER X. “Now step aside, I have some business to attend to. "Where is my mother?" he added, regarding the knight with a searching glance. The fanatic has no such word in his vocabulary. ” She roused herself from some dream at the word.
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