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"Concerning the theft of the body?" asked Jen, eagerly. "Well, from all my long experience, Molly," she said as she seated herself and began to hem a tea-cloth with long steady stabs, "husbands are just like sticks of candy in different jars. They may look a little different, but they all taste alike, and you soon get tired of them. In two months you won't know the difference in being married to Alfred Bennett and Mr. Carter, and you'll have to go on living with him maybe fifty years. Luck doesn't strike twice in the same place, and you can't count on losing two husbands. Alfred's father was Mr. Johnson's first cousin and had more crotchets and worse. He had silent spells that lasted a week, and altogether gave his family a bad time of it. Alfred looks very much like him." "It certainly is so," assented Jen, astonished to hear her put his suspicions into such plain words. "Mr. Alymer was killed by means of this poison. It was used again to render my servant insensible while the body was stolen. So I thought--".
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"Arrived this noon. Have I your permission to come to Hillsboro immediately? Answer. Alfred." Disturbed by the unexpected appearance of David, and seeing from his expression that he was bent upon making himself disagreeable, Jen hastily interposed to prevent a quarrel between the two young men. The sultana, speaking with decidedly un-oriental diction, came shimmering over to them, and shook hands with occidental heartiness. Bruce pinched her cheek, with a tolerant laugh..
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