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Her stifled misery had betrayed her. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. “Please have a seat. Father— dead. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away with marguerites. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue.

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