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. CHAPTER XXI. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. ’ ‘Yes, that is what he said,’ agreed Melusine, pleased to find him of so ready an understanding. The great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass alone. It was—in connection with this man Hill. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside.
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