“I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. “Morning, Mom. I do like to see old friends back here. 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. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. ” Ahead of them walked a gentleman whom it was evident they must at their present pace very speedily overtake. But she was not there. My foster mom works there as a second job.
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