Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. Almost the last female to bear the name, too,’ muttered the old lady. I could not have spoken to her. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. 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. " He laughed and followed her into the hotel. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. “I suppose, Mr.
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