‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. “I shall come back, if at all, a new man. He was every bit as much a pig as this Emile. 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. All at once she became aware of sounds outside. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. White men never went abroad without helmets. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes.
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