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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"

Shall I tell you all my secrets--secrets I've never told any
one?"
"Yes."
"Ever since I was a child--quite small--I hev always thought something
wondersome would happen to me in Hadleigh Wood."
"Why should you think that?"
He had sat up stiffly, and while she clung whispering at his breast he
looked out over her head, glancing his eyes in all directions.
Straight in front of him across the glade, the great beeches were gray
and ghostly, and beyond them in the strip that concealed the ride it
seemed that the shadows had suddenly thickened and blackened.
"I'll tell you. But _you_ tell me something first. Does Mrs. Dale
think this place is haunted?"
He changed his attitude abruptly, put his hands on her shoulders and
held her away from him, so that he could see her face.
"What was it you asked me?"
"Does she fancy the wood is haunted?"
"No, why?"
"I believe she does."
"Rubbish. Why should she?"
"They used to say it was. Granny used to say so. She gave me some
dreadful whippings for coming here. Poor Granny was just like Mrs.
Dale about it--always saying it wasn't right for me to come here."
Dale had settled the girl on his knees so that she sat now without any
support from him.


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