The Closing Scene 472 EPOCH THE FIRST. 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. "The key," replied the widow. ‘But you,’ she said in the friendliest way imaginable, ‘are a person tout à fait sympathique, I think. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. To—to find myself.
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