” She breathed an inner sigh of relief. " "That reminds me he's still at large," returned Ireton. 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. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. ” “Well, you can’t say you’re a failure there,” Lady Lescelles remarked, smiling.
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