” She tried to sound convincing as she looked away hotly. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. “Well, I don’t feel like standing it. ” She said. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. From first to last, on this occasion, her aunt expostulated for about two hours. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. So she married him. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool. Of course, at home there would have been questions.
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