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"By his own confession in court, David was in the grounds of Mrs. Dallas on that night." "To shield the assassin?" gasped Jen, thunderstruck. "And who is the assassin?" Griffin chuckled. "You see, I was in the ante-room, cataloguing the prints—you know I got that job last week. Well, the Board was droning on in the big room in their usual uninteresting fashion and I was deep in admiration of a Rembrandt etching—that one with the hat and the open window behind him—when Green sails past me, head up and majesty writ large on her bulging brow. She always does put on lugs when she reports to the Committee, so I didn't sit up and take notice right away. But in a minute or two I came to life, I can tell you! She was rolling off the sentences about 'injustice to a high-minded student' and 'unnecessary humiliation' and 'reparation to one who was an ornament to any school,' and a lot of other junk like that. I tell you, I could have hugged the old girl! The Board just sat still, like school-boys caught stealing jam, and she went on, getting more flowery all the time.".

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"There you have it," cried Arkel, with a nod. "The wound at the back of the head was caused by his falling like a log when he was drugged." Bruce stepped to the space that had been with difficulty kept at the west side of the studio, and stood before them with his hand raised. Elinor's face was perplexed. "But I don't see what can be done," she said gently. "I'd hate to have the thing dragged up before the school again. Of course, if it had been denied right then and there, I'd have been very glad, but now, after all these days——" "Dat so; but I not see dat debble-stick.".