She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. 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. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. A question next arose whether the prisoner could be executed under the existing warrant,—some inclining to one opinion, some to another. This is the first act. " So saying, he closed the door. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation.
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