Manning?” she asked. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. She delighted in frustrating him. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. . “I don’t know. 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 stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. Ramage—about the forty pounds.
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