“And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from him. But that is men all over. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. 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. In your heart you know very well that this is absurd.
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