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"Why, hello," they'd say, for instance, "what lovely
roses you have."
Naturally, Petal was very flattered to receive so much
attention, and she'd leave her gardening and go flirt with the
young men, which only encouraged them.
Now, Aron, though he had always been the kindest and
happiest of fathers when Petal was growing up, turned stem
and dark of expression. He stopped smiling. He grumbled a
lot. He became, in a word, jealous.
True, he tried, at first, to view the situation with
pleasure. After all, the attention she was receiving was that
due a young, beautiful, marriageable girl, and he tried to
pretend that he was prepared for it.
But he couldn't help himself. Whenever one of Petal's
would-be suitors came calling at the front fence, offering
Aron a wave and a "hello," Aron Dewweb could only grunt
back, or more likely, ignore the young man and stalk into
his cottage.
Several neighbors told him, "Look, Aron, you can't
keep nature from taking its course."
Aron listened politely, but that was because his
neighbors were also customers for his weaving. Really, he
didn't give a damn about nature or its course or their
opinions. He just couldn't bear the thought of some swain
taking away his only, precious daughter
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