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. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. It was an impulse. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. “I had to. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start.
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