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" "For procuring my imprisonment?" "For saving your life. 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. Strange, I shouldn't know him when he called on me. "Lord, if I can only remember to write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me.
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