The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away with marguerites. Every drop of blood in her body glowed and expanded.
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