“Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. “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. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me. I’m not Gerald, remember. Probably he taught me what a joke was merely to irritate my father; for suddenly Father stopped my going to the store for things and sent our old Kanaka cook instead.
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