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She followed the official back into his room. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. "But it wants something here. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. Is there any truth, do you suppose, in this rumoured marriage?” “I know nothing,” Courtlaw answered hurriedly. 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.
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