Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. Both carried packages of books and magazines. That Mr. 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. She lied. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. "But trifle with mo no longer. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. Wasn’t easy, I can tell you.
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