“Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. 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. ' Will that do?" "It will," replied Trenchard. ’ ‘Ain’t it? Want me to give you some time with her? Not that I think she’ll tell you anything. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write.
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