" "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. You seemed complete—without that. “In fact, yes, I do. 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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