One day she had thrown all the gifts into the lagoon, and visited the secret nook no more. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. “It is unimportant,” she said. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. "A neighbour offered me a drive to Paddington; and, as I haven't heard of my son for some time, I couldn't resist the temptation of stepping on to inquire after him, and to thank you for your great goodness to us both, I've brought a little garden-stuff and a few new-laid eggs for you, Ma'am," she added turning to Mrs.
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