“I feel shabby and disgraced. I must leave England to-night. You're a queer lad. To-day he selected the girl, and gave her the lead-chair. This won’t do. Wood could stand it no longer. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. But Jonathan was not to be deterred. “How would you know?” Michelle’s interest was piqued. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently.
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