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Bruce rose and held out his hand to Patricia, who was flushing painfully. The waiter bowed as he folded the coat carefully. Across the lawn there crept a wizen, gray-haired little man, with a cringing manner. He was white, but darkish in the skin, and there was something negroid about his face. This dwarfish little creature was a tramp, who had become a pensioner of Isabella's. He had attached himself to her like some faithful dog, and rarely failed to present himself at least once a day..

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"So you see, we really need you. And you wouldn't have to wear anything very outlandish, you know," urged Patricia, ending up with her strongest argument. "And I'm sure Judy would love to be with Mrs. Shelly alone—they'd have so much more chance for talk together." Judith twined her arms about her and kissed her fondly. "Then let her see the police, sir, although I don't agree with you. She is not the woman to put a rope round her own neck--black as it is." "Isn't it lovely and mysterious?" murmured Elinor, pausing to enjoy the sense of isolation that the obscurity of the blurred lamps emphasized. "I almost hate to lift the curtain. It may be so disappointing.".