” “Oh. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. 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. Figg?" asked Gay. He stopped in mid-sentence, and Ann Veronica opened the door for her aunt. Perhaps you will now explain the alarm.
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