No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. 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. "Ah!" he exclaimed, in a tone of anguish. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. 214 < 27 > REVELATION IN THE CORNFIELD “This is my favorite thing. "Mr.
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