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"Simply to a theory I have in my head. Jaggard was drugged, sir." Elinor nodded, picking up her letter again. "You don't seem at all keen about David," she began, when Judith broke out excitedly, holding up her letter. She pushed her bulky package carefully across the curator's counter, with an eager request that it be tenderly treated, and that official reassured her as to its entire safety by placing it at once in the locked ante-room where the modeling competition studies were stored..
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Conrad
Elinor was breathing fast as she swept the corridor with anxious glance. "Better," said Griffin tersely. "We're so filled with other people's ideas that we've degenerated into regular copy-cats. I can't undertake any subject but that I have a lot of designs by famous painters popping into my mind and mixing me up horribly." "Well, mysteries, even the most profound, have been cleared up before now, major. Come, tell me precisely how the matter stands, and I may be able to help you." "They do look a bit queer," admitted Elinor, reluctantly. "Perhaps when you've worked on them more——".
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