\"With a last name like Albert?\" Michelle responded. 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. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. ” “You must admit,” he declared, “that to us—who had seen you—the thought of your trying anything else was amazing. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly.
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