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Courtlaw’s—I should like to oblige Mr. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. The doctor nodded. 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. He awoke, strangely content.
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