He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. They were really very fine and abundant, with a blaze of perennial sunflowers behind them. 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. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. He drew a little breath and stepped back. He made his speech a little elaborately. He was instantly overpowered, and stretched upon the ground. “His back was towards me,” Anna said.
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