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. " "Mr. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. ” He fell back in his chair with an expression of tremendous desolation. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. . ” She laid her hand softly upon his.
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