‘No mistaking you this time. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father. ” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf. 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.
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