Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. 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. For most of a long and fluctuating night she was fairly confident that she would find work; she knew herself to be strong, intelligent, and capable by the standards of most of the girls she knew. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. There was a couple who disappeared.
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