‘It weren’t my wish, miss, I can tell you that. I meant to lie to you. 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. Along the floor ran an iron bar to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he could move along it from one end of the chamber to the other. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror.
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