“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. 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. His glance came up again and met hers. "I believe I'll tear them up. I don’t suppose you could tell me even the derivation of suffrage if I asked you. But he sobered instantly as he recollected that O'Higgins had found Spurlock once. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde.
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