Aftermath

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I was happily at work this morning among my butterbeans—a vegetable of solid merit and of a far greater suitableness to my palate than such bovine watery growths as the squash and the beet. Georgiana came to her garden window and stood watching me.

"You work those butterbeans as though you loved them," she said, scornfully.

.....

"Let me see it!" she demanded.

My clasp on it suddenly tightened.

.....