Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the room. “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. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see.
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