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CHAPTER XVII. THE STORY OF THE NIGHT. "You don't budge from there, young lady, till you've given us a song," declared Griffin, vigorously. "We know your dark secrets. We've heard that you can warble a bit." "And yet he was a strong man," said Etwald, when he conveyed this intelligence. "He must have been taken by surprise.".
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Conrad
"I wish I could draw," mused Patricia, absently sugaring her Frankfurter. "I've got tons of ideas already." With regard to David Sarby, he had passed with the estate to Jen. The boy's father, a libertine, a drunkard and a confirmed gambler, had been forced, through his vices, to sell his ancestral home; and within a year of the sale he had dissipated the purchase money in debauchery. Afterward, like the sordid and pitiful coward he had always proved himself to be, he committed suicide, leaving his only son, whose mother had long since been worried into her grave, a pauper and an orphan. The girl, who was unknown to them both, addressed them impartially. When riding homeward after this interesting conversation, the major could not but admit to himself that Arkel had brightened up wonderfully in his intellects since first taking charge of the case. The man was not brilliant, not even clever; yet in the present instance he displayed more readiness of resource than Jen would have given him credit for. The theory of the drugging was worthy of investigation, and the major determined to see if anything could be discovered likely to support this view of the matter. He still held to his belief in Jaggard's honesty, for it was incredible that an old servant of thirty years' standing should turn traitor at once; but he thought it probable that someone might have taken him by surprise and drugged him. But as the window was closed the person in question must have been concealed in the room. Here Jen's train of thought became confused..
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