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In fact, Mr. I've despatched him to the New Prison. 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. “And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead. "I'm a detective; my ears and eyes have been trained to absorb all I see and all I hear.
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