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195 < 24 > A CITY IN GREECE, 589 B. He seemed to her indistinguishably about her father’s age. ’ ‘I’m coming to that. " Romance! The Seven Seas are hers. 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. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. But the offences I have committed are venial in comparison with what I should commit were I to wed your father. I'm nearly nabbing you. It shall be your wedding ring.
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