A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. 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. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again.
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