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"And after eight years he wants to come back and find you squeezed into a twenty-inch waist, blue muslin rag you wore at parting? No wonder Alfred didn't succeed as a bank clerk, but had to make his hit in the colonies. He's such a big gun that it is a pity he had to return to his native heath and find even such a slight disappointment as a one-yard waist measure around his—his—",

On his part, Major Jen, together with Arkel, built up a strong case against the man whom they fully believed to be the culprit. Search had been made in Etwald's house, but no traces of the dead body could be found. Its disappearance was almost as profound a mystery as the reason which had induced Etwald to steal it. The reasons for the theft of the devil-stick, for the murder of Maurice, were plain enough; but what had induced the doctor to make away with the corpse no one could discover. Etwald himself, even to his counsel, was silent on the subject.,

"I remember his coming. Go on, please.",

"What does she do?" asked Patricia, delighted with the ease and candor of this speech. She felt sure this rickety, loose-jointed, pale-colored young woman was going to be worth while.

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"I didn't ring," she explained, standing on the little blue rug by the umbrella stand, and jabbing her dripping umbrella into the stand. "The hall door was open and I came right in." She hesitated, and then rushed on, directing most of her speech to Elinor. "Geraldine Leighton is dying, they say, and I thought we might each send a little note to Doris—she's awfully alone, now that Mrs. Leighton is ill, you know. It mightn't help her much, but it would show her that we——",

But as cruel as freezing is, it doesn't compare to the tortures of being melted. Jane administers it to me, and her faithful heart is so wrung with compassion that she perspires almost as much as I do. She wrings a linen sheet out in a cauldron of hot water and shrouds me in it—and then more and more blanket windings envelop me until I am like the mummy of some Egyptian giantess.,

"I have an excellent excuse," interrupted David, rising.,

"Why, because they're the very nicest things in the world, of course," she replied spiritedly. "I love to get new ones and see how they work. It's such fun. Like archery practice, when you hit the bull's eye. Only words are somehow different, too. They sort of taste when you say them—sometimes sweet and sometimes tingly and queer, like the Amorites and Hittites," and she giggled at the memory.