"Have you got Jonathan out of the way?" he asked, in an eager whisper. " "I am one-and-twenty," observed Jack. Mr. 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. "That's for myself," rejoined Mrs.
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