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. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. Knowledge was sacred in Athens, knowledge and his twin, Art. He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. Where was the harm in letting her go? She could not get far. ’ ‘So I infer. But this modern miasma—” Mr. "No matter," replied Sheppard. ” The doctor looked at her thoughtfully. That is why I came to London.
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