But I've an idea as well as you, grounded in some measure upon Sheppard's story. 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. Moments, indeed! We like each other fresh and fresh. I wonder. But when she saw the car, her body filled with dread, for it gave her a bad feeling. "I've a good mind not to speak to you again, Sir!" cried Winifred, with difficulty repressing a tear of vexation; "you've acted unfairly. It was the grand nursery of vice. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. ’ ‘Not French?’ echoed Hilary.
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