At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Never was there another girl like this one. . He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. "I understand," she said. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all places—just now. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. 235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so.
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