. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. . 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. "Where?" "That can wait," she answered. Honestly, I never did. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. Mr. That’s how it takes me. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. ’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. ‘Which is why I feel sure he will utterly repulse the girl, even if she is his granddaughter.
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