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"You've planned the refurnishing of that east wing to suit the style of nearly every girl in Hillsboro since Tom put on long trousers, Bettie Pollard, and they are just as they have been for fifteen years since you did up the whole house," said Mrs. Johnson as she poured a wine-glass half full from one bottle and added a tablespoonful from another.,
I had planned to have a lot of food and had ordered some things up from a caterer in the city, but I telegraphed to them not to deliver them until the next day, even if they did spoil. How could I use smelts when Mrs. Wade had sent me word that she was going to bake some brook trout by a recipe of the judge's grandmother's? Mrs. Hampton Buford had let me know about two fat little summer turkeys she was going to stuff with chestnuts, and roast fowl seemed foolish eating beside them. But when the little bit of a baby pig, roasted whole with an apple in its mouth, looking too frisky and innocent for worlds with his little baked tail curled up in the air, arrived from Mrs. Caruthers Cain, I went out into the garden and laughed at the idea of having spent money for lobsters.,
"Here?",
"If I can force the truth out of Dido," thought Jen, strolling slowly along in the hot sunshine, "I may get the better of Etwald. Then, when David sees that the doctor is in the trap, and in danger of arrest for murder, he may relate what he knows. Though upon my word," considered the major, frowning, "I don't see what information he can possibly add to what I have obtained from Jaggard, or what I am likely to wring from the unwilling lips of Dido. Etwald is the guilty person. David can tell me no more than that."
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"I saw nothing," said David, wearily. "God knows what has become of the body!",
"Very easily," said Jen, with a shrug. "Battersea is half negro. The black race adore the Voodoo stone, of which Dr. Etwald is the possessor. Etwald simply threatened Battersea with the vengeance of the Voodoo stone if he spoke. Therefore, he held his tongue, and was forced to confess all this only by your threatening to have him arrested as the murderer of Mr. Alymer.,
Jen started, and looked sharply at the old man, who, to all appearances, was answering his questions with all possible candor.,
"That is enough," interrupted Mrs. Dallas, rising in a cold fury. "I want no further speeches from you. Go to your room, Isabella. Mr. Alymer, your way lies yonder," and with a swift gesture she pointed to the window.
"I'll be about in the corridor when you come up," she promised. "You don't need to feel that way about it. It's the simplest thing in the world—after you once get settled. You're in great luck to get into life and head classes without ever having gone to school before. I fancy you are a very special brand of genius to have such privileges."
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Mrs. Dallas was about to speak, when the negress silenced her with a look, and raised her head proudly.
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Great was the dismay throughout the countryside when it became known that Maurice Alymer had been murdered. The dead man was well known in drawing-room and in hunting-field, so that there was hardly a person of consequence in the county who could not claim at least a bowing acquaintance with him. Moreover, Maurice was one of those men who are always popular, and much sympathy was manifested for his untimely death. Also the mysterious way in which he had come to his end, the absence of any known motive, and the knowledge that the deceased had no enemies--all these thing's combined to raise public curiosity to the highest pitch. The inquest on the dead body was awaited with much anxiety.
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Patricia's eyes filled with the ready tears as she caught the look on Judith's thin face, raised in adoring admiration to the great Winged Victory that stood poised at the top of the wide flight of stone stairs, showing triumphant in the misty light that seems to fill all great indoor spaces.
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>Mrs. Shelly, with a kindly good-night to Bruce, trotted after them, fumbling with her watch pocket.
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