Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. 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. He had adroitly captured her and led her away from her other guests on the pretext of feigning an interest in her charitable attitude to the newly arrived French. The room was dark and dusty. "What's the matter?" repeated Mrs. " "No fear of that," laughed Kneebone.
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