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"How can you prove that I did so?" he demanded. "I am sorry Mrs. Dallas said that," he remarked, when Maurice paused in his narrative. "What do you think of the artists now?" asked Patricia, leaning back in the carriage as they were being whirled homeward. "Are they such serious people as you thought them, Norn?".

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"Unexpected, Mr. Alymer!" smiled Etwald. "After my statement last night?" Their new acquaintance of the corridor stopped at their table as she, too, made her way out. For the next two days Major Jen stayed in his house and watched over the corpse of David. It was laid out in what had been the young man's bedchamber, surrounded by burning candles, and with pale flowers of virginal whiteness scattered on the bed. The whole scene was but a repetition of that which had taken place when Maurice had died. Both young men had perished from the effects of the infernal African poison. Both had perished in the bloom of youth; and on the right hand of each was the fatal wound which had corrupted the blood. But the corpse of David was here. The corpse of Maurice, where? Only Dr. Etwald could answer the question, and he, released on the charge of murder, was now out on bail for the theft of the corpse. Patricia sighed and stirred restlessly. "Isn't that like life?" she commented, her face clearing as the thought took hold on her. "We're all hankering after something that we haven't got—or we think we are. Maybe—maybe we'd not like the other thing any better if we did get it, though one's own things always seem awfully commonplace, don't they?".