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Hannah Ann and Henry had disappeared with the remains of the feast and the four were alone in the big solid structure, with hay mows on either side of their banqueting floor and a smell of dry, sweet herbage in the air. The insinuation fell harmless, as far as the young professor was concerned. "Why," said Jen, with a nod, "if a post-mortem examination had been made, traces of poison would have been discovered. The poison would have been proved as identical with that of the devil-stick. Thus, beyond all doubt, we should have learned that Maurice had been killed by the devil-stick.".

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"She may be, major. There is a warrant out against her for perjury." "Did you have a chance to talk to her much?" she asked, snapping off her thread in her absorption. "What is she really like? Does she remember Rockham? And does she know we have the old place?" Among the palms and costly rugs that backgrounded a marvelous regal dais occupying one long end of the great room, sat the glittering figure of the portly Haroun-al-Raschid, Sultan of Bagdad and husband of many lovely wives, whose multi-colored costumes made a glowing garden on the rugs at the foot of the dais, while on the embroidered cushions at the side of the monarch a lovely Scheherazade in shimmering white satin with strings of glistening gems in her hair, on her breast, on her arms and ankles, made an alluring picture of the new-made bride. Tall palms reared their stately fronds above the group and slave girls, with fierce Nubians in attendance, waited in mute homage at either side of the throne. Lamps of brass glittered in the alcoves back of the great dais, and above it all the roofs and minarets of the ancient city gloomed in the moonlight of the thousand and second night. Patricia watched her with studious eyes as she pinned on her hat and hurried into her wraps, holding forth the while in an exultation most unusual to her..