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 spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. Ann Veronica had got quite interested in Mr. He never felt any need to explain himself. Why don’t you go in? Charvill is there. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. ‘Where is there that I can go?’ All at once Alderley felt acutely suspicious.
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