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. " "You were so," replied Mrs Sheppard; "and for that wicked deed you will one day be brought to the gallows yourself. If you ask me, you’ll have to beat her regularly if you don’t want to live a dog’s life.
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