"The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. They have no ideas what to do with us. 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. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. "He hash a long journey before him—ha! ha!" "Peace!" cried Jonathan.
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