“Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked. In vain Wood protested his innocence. She always dawdled, so it was easy. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. 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. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford.
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