Cathy chimed. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her. ‘But a spy I am not. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. Irregularly, in a quite inglorious and unromantic way, you know, I am a vicious man. She’s hated me for no apparent reason ever since Fourth Grade. 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. I hung around Harvard a little when you were there. Jeremiah Jackson and Mr.
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