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. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. " "If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped through the back window," replied Jonathan. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump.
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