He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. 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. ’ The girl held out her hands. “All right. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks.
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