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"Not till the very last crumb is done for," declared Judith, emphatically, putting down her parcels on the dressing-room couch. "You may not like it very much, Elinor——",Judith giggled, but Patricia rose briskly.,"Dr. Etwald!" repeated Mrs. Dallas, in what seemed to Jen to be a tone of relief. "Why do you think he killed Mr. Alymer?","Humph, I'd like to see you or Molly or any woman 'corner' Tom Pollard," said Mrs. Johnson with a wry smile as she tasted the concoction in the wine-glass.,"Aha, dat de yaller-ha'r who makes you fear!" cried Dido, bitterly. "He hate Obi an' me. He will not marry you, missy!","I wish I were in the night life," she said resentfully. "I envy you, Norn, being among live people.","Dido!" repeated Lady Meg, thoughtfully. "I have heard Mr. Alymer and Mr. Sarby talking about her. A negress, is she not?","I assure you he told me nothing. But I am as clever as Battersea, and can put two and two together. Next day Battersea went to Etwald, did he not, and tried to blackmail him, but this clever doctor compelled him to keep silent.",Jen started. Evidently David had returned before him in order to see Etwald, and to gain private speech with the doctor, had conducted him to Jaggard's sick-room. For the moment Jen--still suspicious of Sarby's behavior--had it in his mind to follow; but a few minutes of reflection convinced him that this was unnecessary. David did not know all the conversation which had taken place between himself and Isabella, therefore he could inform Etwald of nothing new. But, indeed, the major wondered why David wished to speak privately with the doctor. It looked, to his mind, as though the two men were in league.,"I am disgusted with her, too," said Mrs. Dallas, indorsing the major's exclamation.,I took possession of it and carried it to a bench in the garden that backs up against the purple sprayed lilacs and is flanked by two rows of tall purple and white iris that stand in line ready for a Virginia reel with a delicate row of the poet's narcissus across the broad path. I love my flowers. I love them swaying on their stems in the wind, and I like to snatch them and crush the life out of them against my breast and face. I have been to bed every night this spring with a bunch of cool violets against my cheek, and I feel that I am going to dance with my tall row of hollyhocks as soon as they are old enough to hold up their heads and take notice. They always remind me of very stately gentlemen, and I have wondered if the little narcissus weren't shaking their ruffles at them.,"You accused Mrs. Dallas of all these things five minutes ago," said David, ironically, "and now you think--".