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. Shall we turn back?" "And disappoint Mr. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. ” “I can spare it,” Anna answered suavely. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet.
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