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Jen was astonished, both at her peremptory tone and her quiet manner. Whatever influence had been at work, it was certainly wonderful how she had calmed down from the nervous, hysterical girl into the reasonable and cool-headed woman. Isabella noted the amazement of the major, and guessing its cause, she explained the reason of the change in her looks, manner and nervous system. "Why no, major. Mr. Sarby was with him." "Rather peculiar, don't you think, seeing that he must necessarily have been ignorant of your visit on that night?".
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"I am taking too much for granted," muttered Major Jen, passing his hand across his brow, "Maurice may not have been killed after all. It is Etwald and his horrible prophecies which have put the idea into my head. Let me have a look at the poor lad's body." "Oh, let me stay," urged Patricia. "You can read out loud, and I'll slip in bed here to keep warm. What part are you reading now?" "Ho! ho!" murmured Maurice, rather taken back. "So the art of devil-raising is not a lost one after all. Dido can still call spirits from the vasty deep." "And why didn't you give it up to the police?".
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