“How dare you!” They were both astonished at the other’s strength. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. 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. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. ‘What Gerald wants with you has me beat. The weed was all right. . He seemed to be.
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