"Gone! gone!" moaned Isabella, rising. "Oh, my dear, dead lover.",
"I think you ought to use better language, Miss Pat, now that you are going to be a sculptor," said Judith severely, and then broke into open delight. "We'll go, won't we, Elinor? We wouldn't disappoint David, would we? On his birthday, too.",
"Doubtless. I hardly anticipated an easy task when I undertook to learn who killed my dear lad. Besides, David will help me.".
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