Wood fancied he recognised. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. 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. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores. “Yes.
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