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 a moment his grasp grew weaker. "Fly, Captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't be able to keep these devils down. The girl’s eyes never left his face. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair.
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