. 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. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. Anyone else who finds out must be killed, otherwise, you insure death or worse for us. Stanley considered. She laughed. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. "Now stand before me, Poll.
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