It was for ever. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. 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. She had never had a real doll. laws alone swamp our small staff. In others, she acts with the speed and surety of the loosed arrow.
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