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. He can cure all diseases of the flesh as I taught him. I followed you home on the train. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. ‘I have said that I will tell you nothing of this soi-disant Valade.
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