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. I certainly didn’t mean to kiss you. "Oh! Sir, if you'd seen her as I've seen her, you'd not wish her a continuance of misery. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. ” “It wouldn’t be you either.
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