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Somehow I didn't enjoy dressing to-night for my dinner, and when I was ready I stood before the mirror and looked at myself a long time. I was very tall and slim and—well, I suppose I might say regal in that amethyst crêpe with the soft rose-point, but I looked to myself about the eyes as I had been doing for years. And to-night that Rene triumph made me feel no different from one of Miss Hettie Primm's conceptions that I had been wearing for ages with indifference and total lack of style. I shrugged my shoulder with what I thought was sadness, though it felt a trifle like temper, too, and went on down into the garden to see if any of my flowers had a cheer-up message for me.,
"I can't help it," I gulped in my sleeve. "I did use to like Alfred Bennett. My heart almost broke when he went away. I used to be beautiful and slim, and now I feel as if my own fat ghost has come to haunt me all my life. I am so ashamed! If a woman can't cry over her own dead beauty, what can she cry over?" By this time I was really crying.,
Major Jen equivocated.,
Elinor dropped on a stool and raised her face to her sister, and Patricia was surprised to see that her eyes were shining with joy instead of tears.
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"But Jaggard?" asked David, rising stiffly from his chair.,
"If he only knew the truth," said he, wiping the perspiration from his face, "what would he say? What would he do? He blames me now; would he blame me then?",
"I wish I had known," said Jen, rather dismayed to find his fine case against Etwald breaking down. "But even if we had forced her into court she would not have given evidence against the holder of the Voodoo stone.",
"Because the room was in darkness, as you heard Jaggard say. To steal that stick the thief must have known its position on the wall."
"Well, from all my long experience, Molly," she said as she seated herself and began to hem a tea-cloth with long steady stabs, "husbands are just like sticks of candy in different jars. They may look a little different, but they all taste alike, and you soon get tired of them. In two months you won't know the difference in being married to Alfred Bennett and Mr. Carter, and you'll have to go on living with him maybe fifty years. Luck doesn't strike twice in the same place, and you can't count on losing two husbands. Alfred's father was Mr. Johnson's first cousin and had more crotchets and worse. He had silent spells that lasted a week, and altogether gave his family a bad time of it. Alfred looks very much like him."
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"I beg your pardon, Molly," he exclaimed, and his face was redder than mine, and then it went white with mortification. I couldn't stand that.
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For the moment Major Jen did not ask any more questions, for the very simple reason that he did not exactly know what course to take. Undoubtedly the tramp was telling the truth. He had no reason to conceal it; for in his own mind Jen quite acquitted him of any complicity in the crime. That so feeble and elderly a creature, debauched by intemperance, weak from insufficient food, should attack a vigorous young athlete like Maurice, was out of the question, even though he had the advantage of possessing the devil-stick. But here the question of the dried-up poison occurred to Jen. If the poison had evaporated by the lapse of time, the devil-stick must have been innocuous and incapable of inflicting death. Therefore, upon the evidence of the saturated handkerchief, the bag concealed in the turquoise-studded handle must have been refilled by Dido!--Dido, for the significant reason that she, inheriting the traditions of her Ashantee grandmother, alone must have been capable of manufacturing the deadly drug. To prove this assumption, a feasible one, the devil-stick was close at hand.
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Patricia grinned. "You two geniuses understand each other, I see. Might a humdrum mortal remind you that David is just about sliding into the train shed at this moment?"
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Halin-Chen Response,
>"Of course; but Isabella does not know that. She thinks--and on the face of it, with reason--that David killed Maurice out of jealousy."
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