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Patricia studied her with eager interest. The bride of half a year was still a bride to her, and the transformation of the limp, bedraggled art student into this languid, elegant young lady was an affair that had its beginnings at Greycroft, for it was under that hospitable roof that Mr. Bingham had first seen Miss Auborn. In the merry Babel of the studio party Mrs. Bingham held her own with a calm assurance that Miss Auborn had not possessed, and when Mr. Bingham, pink and smiling as ever and just a bit more bald, joined them, the air of mild authority with which she welcomed that gentleman impressed Patricia even more strongly. "Mrs. Johnson," I said after a minute's silence, while I had decided whether or not I had better tell her all about it. If a woman's in love with her husband you can't trust her to keep a secret, but I decided to try Mrs. Johnson. "I really am not engaged exactly to Alfred Bennett, though I suppose he thinks so by now if he has got the answer to that telegram. But—but something has made me—made me think about Judge Wade—that is he—what do you think of him, Mrs. Johnson?" I concluded in the most pitifully perplexed tone of voice. Before Jen had time to inquire the meaning of David's strange exclamation, the young man had turned on his heel and was walking rapidly back to the house. Surprised by this behavior, and suspicious of its reason, the major called out to him to stop; but without taking any notice the young man increased his pace, and was soon lost to sight. Still marveling, Jen went after him, and on entering the library found that only Arkel was present..
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At first he read and smoked, then he paced up and down, thinking of his dead lad, and finally, as the hands of the clock drew to midnight, he threw himself into a chair, and worn out in body and in mind, the old man slept profoundly. Hour after hour passed in silence; the moon set and the night grew darker, as the wind rose and moaned through the woods round the house. Save the muttering of the breeze and the ticking of the clock not a sound was to be heard in that silent room wherein Jen slept heavily. "Certainly. The bedroom is no great distance from the library, and the door of the latter was open. But then Jaggard didn't cry out!" Within, Maurice and the major were talking gaily, and the sound of their voices and laughter came clearly to the ears of David. But silent in his deep chair sat Etwald, and the burning glance of his eyes seemed to beam menacingly through the air and compel the young man to evil thoughts. David looked at Etwald, dark and voiceless; and over his head, in the yellow lamplight, he saw the glittering golden handle of the devil-stick. The old man's eyes brightened in anticipation of a feast, and he shuffled off round the corner as quickly as his age would allow him. Dido looked after him for a moment, considering the message he had brought from Dr. Etwald, and then began to think of the devil-stick..
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