And then all her restlessness was turned to joy. What's the idea of the black border?" "My father recently died, sir. ‘Not from the nuns, no. ” Ann Veronica sat with her chin on her hand, red-lit and saying little, and Miss Miniver discoursed. 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. Surely he was imagining this picture. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. Open it.
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