She never even graduated high school, and that has been a thorn in her side ever since. 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. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. She proffered her neck towards him. I love some one else. This chap's recovery all depends upon the care he receives. "By the way," said the doctor, as he sat down in the dining room of the Victoria and ordered tea, "I've been thinking it over.
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