" "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. ‘Will you stop hedging? I’m hanged if I go on with this ridiculous cat and mouse game. I hear the splash in the water—I see the white object floating like a sea-bird on the tide—it will not sink!" "'Sblood!" exclaimed Jonathan, in a tone of ill-disguised contempt; "it won't do to indulge those fancies now. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. It is as if my lips had been sealed about them. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. 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.
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