He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. 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. Of course I know nothing of what really did happen in Paris—if even you ever saw him there. " "Well, well, I'm not within a minute," rejoined the turnkey. She nodded. It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and remained until noon.
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