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They sat in comfortable silence till they heard the front door slam and Judith's feet on the stair. Patricia started as the grotesque words sank deep. "She was fearfully angry and warned me that if I said a word about the theft of the devil-stick I would be in danger of hanging my own mother.".

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"No, no, no! I would rather die. I love Maurice." "It is a fact," insisted Jen. "I have the evidence of Jaggard to prove that Dido was in the room on that night." "You are cruel, cruel, John Moore, and I hate you worse than I ever did before, if that is possible. I'm hungry, hungry to death, and now you've spoiled it all! Go away before I wet this nice crisp bread and jam with tears, and turn it into a pulp I'll have to eat with a spoon. You don't know what it is to want something sweet so bad you are willing to steal it—from yourself!" I fairly blazed my eyes down into his, and moved as far away from him as the table would let me. Patricia laughed and blushed with pleasure, preening herself a little and stretching on tiptoe to try to catch a glimpse in the crowded mirror; there was a movement as a sultana who had been carmining her full lips gave place to a dark beggar maid, and Patricia caught the vision of a slender, airy figure, glittering beneath its gauzy draperies with the sparkle of bright gold, and with the glint and shimmer of rosy clanking bracelets and anklets, and the spangled glory of the rose-crowned headpiece stirring a magical memory of Persia..