“Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. I’ll try to stay as long as I can. They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. 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.
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