Across the lawn there crept a wizen, gray-haired little man, with a cringing manner. He was white, but darkish in the skin, and there was something negroid about his face. This dwarfish little creature was a tramp, who had become a pensioner of Isabella's. He had attached himself to her like some faithful dog, and rarely failed to present himself at least once a day.,
"No," said Battersea again. "The poison is dried up.",
"Of course; but Isabella does not know that. She thinks--and on the face of it, with reason--that David killed Maurice out of jealousy.".
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