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"I swear, on my sacred honor, that Maurice Alymer was killed by Max Etwald!" She and Aunt Bettie had just come up the street from Aunt Bettie's house, and the Pollard cook was following them with a large basket, in which were packed things Aunt Bettie was contributing towards the entertainment of the distinguished citizen. Mr. Johnson is Alfred's nearest kinsman in Hillsboro, and, of course, he is to be their guest while he is in town. Arkel spoke too hopefully, for Dido was never caught. She was too clever to give the police a chance of laying hands on her. Like a stone cast into a wide ocean, she disappeared from Deanminster--from England, no doubt, and possessed of the Voodoo stone, possibly took her way back to her native "Ashantee," there to become the high priestess in the horrible fetish worship of Africa..
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"I'll go on with it when I'm rested and Judy is fresh," she said contentedly. "If it goes on as rapidly as it has tonight, it will be ready to turn in at the end of the week. We have until Saturday night to put in our stuff, you know. You have to get yours in by noon, don't you?" When Patricia came home from the library at half-past five, she was surprised to find Elinor stretched on the couch, with a thick comfortable drawn up to her chin, and her face gray and haggard. "Because Maurice was engaged to your daughter, whom he wished to marry. Etwald killed my poor lad, so as to remove a dangerous rival from his path." "How in the world did you make up such an unearthly yodel?" demanded Elinor, preparing to descend from her chair of state. "I hope I'm not expected to answer in kind.".
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