She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. 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. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. ‘You can’t prove nothing. She may have any number of wasting diseases, but they cannot survive in our bodies. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side.
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