And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. “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. . I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. I was always told my mother died the day I was born. ***** October. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters.
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