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"Yes, and a murderess!" "H'm! This is all building on sand," said Jen, doubtfully. "Even to drug him, these men must have entered by the window." "Patricia!" gasped Judith, shocked out of her dreamy calm. "You oughtn't to say things like that. It's—it's not religious!".
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"No, I don't—don't—need any dog," I said softly, hardly glancing out from under my lashes, because I was afraid to risk looking straight at him again so soon. I could fairly feel Aunt Adeline's eyes boring into my back. She knew very well what it was, for her grandmother had been carried off as a slave from the west coast of Africa, and knew all about Ashantee sorcery and fetish rites. These she had repeated to her granddaughter Dido, with the result that Dido, cherishing these recollections, knew exactly how to use the wand of sleep. She had spoken about it to Dr. Etwald, quite ignorant that Jen kept one as a curiosity, and now Etwald had intimated through Battersea that he wished her to do something in connection with the stick. What that something might be Dido at the present moment could not guess. To none of these questions could the major find feasible answers; therefore for the time being--i.e., pending the narration of Jaggard--he dismissed them from his mind. It was possible that the story of the invalid might throw light on the darkness which overshadowed the case. "We don't waste anything, anyway, and we do all we can to be nice to other people," said Judith, seriously. "And that ought to count, oughtn't it?".
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