It was free of leering men, unthinkable punishments, and human evil. But his grief was of short duration. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. ’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. Yes. 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.
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