She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. 150 “Homely. 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. ’ The girl held out her hands. .
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