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"Oh, Norn," she gasped, dropping her hand and searching Elinor's flushing face with questioning eyes. "You too?" It was almost dusk, and I stopped in the garden a minute to pull the earth closer round some of the bachelor's-buttons that had "popped" the ground some weeks ago. Thinking about them made me regain my spirits, and I went on in the house quite prepared to be scolded for whatever Aunt Adeline had thought of while I was gone. Jane told me with her broadest grin that she had gone down to her sister-in-law's for supper, and I sat down with a sigh of relief. "But there must be," insisted Etwald, cruelly. "Alymer died of poison, and it must be proved that such was the case. Then we may learn if he perished from the poison of the devil-stick. Afterward you must get a detective to search for the person who stole it from your smoking-room. Once he or she is found, and the assassin of your poor friend will be in custody.".
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"See widin dat stick," she muttered, eagerly. "I wish to see." "I have told anyone who asked me," said Elinor, evenly, though her cheeks were beginning to burn. "I came in on Bruce Haydon's recommendation." Bruce and Elinor were inspecting the rooms on the other side of the studio, and had passed out of sight behind the second doorway. Patricia forgot her censorship as the spirit of the explorer rose in her. "Mercy on us!" she ejaculated, rising hurriedly. "I've gone and made you late for breakfast!".
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