"And now, I've one further request," faltered Jack; "though I scarcely know how to make it. But with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of living would stir even the blood of a clod. 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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