"I've lost my wager. “But I don’t see,” said Ann Veronica, “just how it fits the present situation. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. 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. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns.
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