‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment. 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. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. ’ Gerald unfolded his arms and threw his hands in the air. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout.
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