Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. ” Lucy commented. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. 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. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce.
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