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"Yes, you do, too!" cried Judith ardently, flinging out a masterpiece. "You sound like a syncopated opera; doesn't she, Bruce?" Patricia gazed approvingly at the dim, shadowy study of graceful figures grouped in attentive attitudes about a reader in a landscape of suggested loveliness that spoke to any observer with delicate symbolism. Counsel for the prosecution accepted the correction of his learned friend, and withdrew the obnoxious word crime--if not altogether, at all events for the time being. He would resume his explanation of the case. Major Jen, the adopted father of the deceased, possessed a barbaric curiosity called by civilized people the devil-stick; by barbarians the wand of sleep. This he had obtained from Ashantee, where it was used to kill people inimical to the king by the injection of poison. There was no need to describe the devil-stick, as it was on the table, and would be shown to the jury. This devil-stick--.
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"You are satisfied now, I think," said this latter, seeing that the major did not speak. Of course, anybody that is anybody would be interested in Father Tiber and the old Colosseum, but what made me forget the one slice of dry toast and the apple was the way he seemed to be connecting me up with all those wonderful old antiquities that had never even seen me. Because of me he had felt and written that poem descriptive of old Tiber, and the moonlight had lit up the Colosseum just because I was over here lighting up Hillsboro. Of course, that is not the way he put it all, but there is no place to really copy what he did say down into this imp book and, anyway, that is the sentiment he expressed, boiled down and sugared over. "But David confessed himself guilty, to save her?" As her eyes grew accustomed to the flicker and motion, she searched for Elinor, and saw her at last, the center of the weird procession, standing quietly beside the chair from which she had risen, holding her head with a sweet and gracious dignity that went straight to Patricia's chilled heart..
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