Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. "Did I hear you …" began McClintock. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. 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 Pellissiers had been an old family in Hampshire, while his grandfather had driven a van. She will tell you all the story while I am gone. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their business, and in return we ask them to—dinner. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. John’s demeanor shifted. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper.
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