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. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. You simply can’t. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. She must have the capability to learn magic, to learn the enchantments that add to her power. “We played at love-making in Paris. “You are certain of this. 9.
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