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"I refuse to marry Mr. Sarby," said Isabella, vehemently. "I hate him!" "Is your laurel wreath on good and tight, Judy?" asked Bruce with a twinkle. "I'm going to beg Elinor to have hers tied on with nice little blue ribbons. Miss Pat is on the rampage for fame, and it isn't safe to take chances." "Ho! yis. It berry strong, dat smell. Too much of it kill--kill--kill!".

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"Why Mrs. Dallas wants Isabella to marry David." Not another word would the major say on the subject at that moment, so Maurice was forced to seek his room in a very unsatisfied frame of mind. However, as he thought, here was one mystery about to be explained, and that was a comfort. As Jen prophesied, David did not return to dinner, and Maurice had a tête-à-tête with his guardian. But they talked of indifferent things, and it was not until they were once more in the smoking-room with cigars and coffee that the major consented to speak on the subject of Mrs. Dallas' strange conduct. It's my duty to look the matter in the face before I look in Alfred's—and decide. If not Alfred, what then? "I can't say," returned Arkel, shrugging his shoulders. "They may have been bribed to steal the body, and on accomplishing their task did not want to share the bribe with Jaggard." "For goodness' sake, don't be jumping into admirations wholesale, Miss Pat, darling," said Elinor, gently pulling Patricia's arm through hers as they passed into the narrow entrance to the dressing room. "Don't rush at it so, ducky. You can't know the right people at once, and it saves a lot of bother not to get too familiar with the wrong ones.".