To perdition with them all. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. "You didn't spend it?" "I never intended to spend it—any more than I really intended to steal it. I’ll protect you!” He cried. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. 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.
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