” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. . “I don’t want you to do it, to go on talking to me. 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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