Well, whenever you say, I promise to do away with the mystery. She put her head out of the window. 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. "I thought as much," continued Jonathan. ’ Lucilla gaped. No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table.
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