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. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. " "Did I ask for it?" "Yes. He paced faster, stomping around.
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