"I am innocent. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. “Then you—you will?” A long pause. 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 knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. He had chosen his time well. “Sorry to be so terribly rude, Martin. "And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth.
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