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"Yes," assented Jen, turning his sharp eyes on Isabella, "and you--do you believe in this Voodoo stone also?" "It is over a year since I wrote you my explanatory letter from Deanminster, and I little thought that it would be necessary for me to write to you again, least of all from this place. But here I came in search of Dido; and here I found Mrs. Dallas, and to my profound astonishment her daughter--still Miss Dallas. I sought an explanation. They would not give me one. In despair--having received the most uncivil reception--I left them. Then, to my surprise, I ran across Mr. David Sarby. "Maybe Bruce will let Margaret work with me sometimes," she murmured joyfully. "I know he's going to like Griffin tremendously; she's just the sort to fit in with us all. Miss Jinny's crazy over her. I don't believe we'll see poor Doris Leighton again. Griffin told me she was leaving.".
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"M. D.!" said the major to himself. "Margaret Dallas, the mother of Isabella. How did her handkerchief come into the room on that night? And the perfume?" Some days are like tin nutmeg-graters that everybody uses to grate you against, and this was one for me. For an hour I sat and grated my own self against Alfred's letter that had come in the morning. I realised that I would just have to come to some sort of decision about what I was going to do, for he wrote that he was coming in a week or two. "Then let her see the police, sir, although I don't agree with you. She is not the woman to put a rope round her own neck--black as it is." "As counsel for the defense you can hardly expect me to answer that.".
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