She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. I wonder if a man can quite understand that passionate feeling? It is quite a passionate feeling. Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant. 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. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Langley is getting up, and coming this way.
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