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"Won't it seem queer to you to be anywhere but at Greycroft, though?" mused Patricia, her eyes wide and absent. "Although we've only had the place not quite a year, I feel as though we'd always been there, and I can't imagine how it would seem to have to live anywhere else now." "They are coming in from Dufranne's and we're going to imbibe them in that room to the left," replied Bruce with a wave toward the sitting-room. "When we feel like it, we're going to Dufranne's for them." He turned to Mrs. Shelly with an air of charming courtesy that sat well on his strong face. "Are you still in the humor for dining out, madam?" he asked, in a tone easily heard by her. "You must be, if you know who killed Maurice, yet refuse to confess," retorted Jen, with some heat. "Will you tell me the truth? I ask you for the last time.".
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"Yes. I'll try and get them to come." Suddenly I felt very stately and granddamey and responsible as I looked at them all across the roses and sparkling glass. They were lovely women, all of them, and could such men be found anywhere else in the world? When I left them all to go out into the big universe to meet the distinctions that I knew my future husband would have for me, would I sit at table with people who loved me like this? I saw Pet Buford say something to Tom about me that I know was lovely from the way he smiled at me; and the judge's eyes were a full cup for any woman to have offered her. Then in a flash it all seemed to go to my head, and tears rose to my eyes, and there I might have been crying at my own party if I hadn't felt a strong warm hand laid on mine as it rested on my lap and Dr. John's kind voice teased into my ears—"Steady, Mrs. Molly, there's the loving-cup to come yet," he whispered. I hated him, but held on to his thumb tight for half a minute. He didn't know what the matter really was, but he understood what I needed. He always does. CHAPTER III. DIDO. "I am taking too much for granted," muttered Major Jen, passing his hand across his brow, "Maurice may not have been killed after all. It is Etwald and his horrible prophecies which have put the idea into my head. Let me have a look at the poor lad's body.".
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