She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. 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. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Wild is a great man," said the hangman, replenishing his pipe, "and we owe him much, and ought to support him.
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