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"Yes, and I honor you for it," said Jen, kissing her hand. "But tell me one thing. Why did you make that midnight visit?" She put the question to Griffin when she met her in the hall after the class had broken up in disorder to celebrate the initiation by a general gambol through the deserted halls and corridors. Patricia and Griffin were seating themselves on a drawing-board at the top of the short flight of stone steps that connected the back corridor with the exhibition rooms above. "I've been working on my panel study," she said, with an effort at brightness. "I don't seem to get it finished to my liking, and the time is getting perilously short, you know.".
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"No, not Dr. Etwald, but the person who stole the devil-stick." Patricia retreated to the tree, and Doris stood with one hand clutching the cloak and the light strong on her face. She looked more beautiful than ever to Patricia's friendly eyes, and there was a calm strength in her manner that awed while it comforted her. All consciousness of herself was gone, and, Patricia felt, gone forever, and in its place a quiet courage that spoke of conquered pride and vanity and selfishness. Doris Leighton had found herself. "Can't find anything," he said at last, letting me go and looking carefully at my face. His eyes were all anxiety; and I liked it. "When does it hurt you, and how?" he asked anxiously. Elinor rose, and going to her bag that was still dangling from the chair back where she had flung it in her hurried preparation for dinner, took out a cardcase, and drawing forth three square bits of gray cardboard, handed them to Patricia..
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