She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. “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. I found him lying like this, the bleeding partly stopped by this scarf, else he had been dead by now. “G. And you, Austin; and you Langley, I say the same thing to you.
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