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"Bah! you black parrot!" muttered Maurice scornfully and turned upon his heel. As he vanished down the walk Dido clapped her hands together with great satisfaction and began to sing in low tones. Her song was barbaric in words and strange beyond all telling in the music. It rose and fell, and moaned and drawled, in a curiously painful manner. In the drawing-room Mrs. Dallas had risen to her feet at the first deep contralto note, and now stood rocking herself to and fro with an expression of alarm on her face. Isabella was terrified in her turn by Dido's song and her mother's strange conduct, though by this time she should have been used to these eccentricities. If Mrs. Dallas was a bore--and her friends said she was--the daughter was divine, and many young men came to The Wigwam to be spellbound by her dark beauty. More men than the three who had dined at "Ashantee" were in love with Isabella. "She isn't in mourning," said Elinor, making a discovery. "I wonder who she is. She's impressive enough to be the president of the board, and Bruce says that's the most important person in the place.".

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Patricia was only too glad to give in. "That makes it perfectly simple, then," she said gratefully. "I'm tremendously obliged to you for helping me out." "Dr. Etwald!" repeated Mrs. Dallas, in what seemed to Jen to be a tone of relief. "Why do you think he killed Mr. Alymer?" "If I haven't forgotten all about Miss Jinny!" she thought remorsefully. "How fearfully self-absorbed I'm getting to be. I'm a perfect pig!" Elinor sighed in deep content..