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"One moment, Miss Dallas. What influence has Etwald over the negress?" "Oh, go along, Miss Pat! You'll be awfully late," said Judith, wriggling away, flushed and happy. David, grinning broadly, cast a rather sheepish glance at the hurrying throng..
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"Very good," said Jen, as they turned their steps toward the house. "If her explanation is only as clear as your own, I shall have nothing to say. By the way, Miss Dallas, how did you escape from your room that night?" Patricia played with the handle of the great glittering brass amphora that stood by the low stool where she sat. Her face was puzzled though not disquiet. David, who was watching him, felt an instinctive feeling that Etwald was telling a lie. He saw that the man could hardly keep his seat for his eagerness to examine and handle the strange weapon. However, he said nothing, but watched and watched, when Maurice made a remark about the stick. "You are sure of that?" demanded Jen, anxiously..
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