F. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them. Then she came a few steps to meet him. She replied softly. 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 I know for at the Valade estate it was talked of very much, even that they supposed me there to be the daughter of Suzanne. "It is too late. She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that.
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