To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. 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. " "And me," insinuated Mrs. "I cannot but approve the course you are about to take, Jack," said Thames, "though on some accounts I regret it. They don’t count, and I don’t care. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. "I might return the question.
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