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"The only thing I'm afraid of is that Mrs. Hudson won't let us go a whole month sooner," she said with the calmness of despair. "I suppose I'll have to stay there all by myself, just because I'm the youngest and not an artist. But I tell you all this—I'm not going to stay alone. I'll get Mrs. Shelly to come in——" There was generous and general rejoicing at her account of the brief interview, and a strong feeling that under this happier augury Geraldine must recover. Patricia went to bed feeling that the storm of the afternoon had been a type of her own day, and that for her the stars were serenely shining after the tempest of doubt and estrangement. "Your own conscience!" he repeated, in disdain. "How can you talk in that manner? What excuse can you--".
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"Oh, Bruce, the sycamore you painted is gone!" called Patricia, not turning. "Come and see!" Groans of relief sounded from the side of the room whence the voice had come, and there was a general giggle. This discovery at once irritated, amazed and perplexed the major. That the handkerchief of Mrs. Dallas should be bound around the head of Jaggard was strange, but that it should be perfumed with the deadly scent which impregnated the devil-stick was stranger still. Had Mrs. Dallas found the wand of sleep? Had Mrs. Dallas perfumed the handkerchief with its cruel poison? Had Mrs. Dallas drugged or stupefied Jaggard on that fatal night by means of that saturated handkerchief? These were the vital questions which presented themselves to the puzzled major, and which he found himself unable to answer. "Why don't you do something?" cried Patricia again. "Why don't you tell him? Griffin, it wasn't true—that she copied it! You know she'd not do a thing like that!".
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