“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. Seems you were right about Valade. I'll tell you something. You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. 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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