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. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. An unwelcome idea came to him. ” She cried once they were in the great room. " CHAPTER VI. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair.
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