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. ‘Don’t be so absurd. "I had no thought of injuring your wife, and would have died rather than commit so foul a crime. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself.
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