Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. “On or about the day you receive this letter, Anna, the six months will be up. A cold shiver came over her. You will be wearing your travelling dress, and no doubt you would prefer it. 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 mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call. I have only just left Wych Street.
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