. ’ ‘Wait!’ Leaning forward, Hilary tapped on the panel. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. ‘This we will leave. 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. If our young person hadn’t had the nurse part cut out, eh? She might have known more and done less.
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