“About my sister,” she repeated slowly. 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. ” “I positively insist upon knowing,” she declared cheerfully. “You have the ideas. He said. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr.
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