Sheila found out. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. John’s demeanor shifted. 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. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers.
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