But if you mean to take me to this Gérard, I shall know what to say to him. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. 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.
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