At the end of the story, the narrator not only feels compassion for Miss Lottie, but as an adult, she feels her pain as well.... the need for beauty, the passion for marigolds.
For one does not have to be ignorant and poor to find that his life is as barren as the dusty yards of our town. And I too have planted marigolds.
<span>We was to be umble to this person, and umble to that; and to pull off our caps here, and to make bows there; and always to know our place, and abase ourselves before our betters.
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Try answer C I think its right
The answer is nonstandard usage.
Brainliest please.
