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 replied. Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. "He has quite the air of one. It would be swindling. He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan.
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