If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. 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. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. He took her hands firmly in his and raised them to his lips. ” They went on for a time without another word. The child has sprung into a youth; the youth has become a man; the man has already begun to feel the advances of age.
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