’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up. It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. Here we go, thought Gerald. 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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