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. Afterward he stole out of the room with the bloodstained sheet to boast her virginity to his brothers and father, which only truly mattered because she was beautiful, her mother had said. Leave the room! leave the house, Sir! and enter it again at your peril. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ” “You should have let me do this for you a long time ago. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. Your poor cheeks are quite sunken and hollow. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire.
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