“Mere sensuality. " "Horrible!" cried Mrs. “There is my aunt,” she said. 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. Nothing stronger than water has passed my lips for years. According to Lucilla, this comtesse had constituted herself something of a social leader in the rapidly growing assemblage of refugees, and would undoubtedly be ready to introduce an eligible bachelor appropriately. A tarnish of constraint that had recently spread over her intercourse with Capes vanished again.
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