" "What is this to me, Sir?" said Trenchard, cutting him short. " "Murdered!" ejaculated Winifred. I want you to be my wife. 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. Then she stood up and looked around the room. And she had been doubting since that walk in the Zoological Gardens whether, indeed, he did simply care for her. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood.
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