He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. Luckily, Mrs. ” Lights went on inside the house on the upper level. ’ At last. Figg?" asked Gay. 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. It was from Brendon. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. It is useless to contend with him, even with right on your side. She had seen Mrs.
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