We all get deceived sometimes. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. ‘Odd sort of a nun. Mr. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. She passed people in the streets and regarded them with a quickening apprehension, once or twice came girls dressed in slatternly finery, going toward Regent Street from out these places. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. ’ She gave him a straight look. 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. ” He sighed.
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