‘Poor Gerald has been very busy about your affairs this last week. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday. “Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. “He is not—I don’t like him. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face. The audience was made up of parents, teachers, and a few other curious folks from town, all sitting hushed in anticipatory silence as the school orchestra assembled onstage. Another car followed, a rusty Cadillac sedan full of kids. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil.
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