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"You'd better go, man, before I bring my father to set our dog on you," he exploded, and, before I could stop him, his thin little legs went trundling down the garden path toward home. "On the charge of stealing the body of Maurice Alymer." "Not till the very last crumb is done for," declared Judith, emphatically, putting down her parcels on the dressing-room couch. "You may not like it very much, Elinor——".
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"It would seem so," he assented. "Mr. Aylmer is dead, as you say; so the term life in death can not be applied to his present state of non-existence. But you will admit that I foretold that evil would happen to him if he decided to marry Miss Dallas. It has turned out as I thought." "What's the matter?" insisted Patricia, nudging her to compel her attention, but Judith's gaze was wandering all about in search of Elinor, and she answered absently. "There she is, up on the stand with Griffin," she murmured in dismay. "I can never let her know. I wish I could catch her eye; can't you signal her, Miss Pat? You're taller than I am." "The thieves carried it across the lawn!" "So it is a performance, after all?" said David, carelessly..
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