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. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. Her anger died and she eyed him. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. I'll go alone. I have come thirteen thousand miles for this young fellow; I'm ready to go galloping thirteen thousand more. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. The doctor said you wrote.
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