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"No; I understand. You have explained the affair of the handkerchief clearly. All the points have been elucidated save that dealing with the perfume." Patricia's eyes narrowed. "I believe I'll make my candy up in as attractive a way as I possibly can, and I'll spring it on them first thing, so they'll be in too good a humor to want to haze me very hard. Don't you think that might work for you, too?" "Why, Molly, you know me better than that!" she exclaimed from behind a perfect rose cloud of blushes..
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"Lost! Stolen, you mean," growled Jen, tartly. "That negress--" "The devil-stick!" he cried. "By all that is wonderful, the devil-stick!" "Yes," assented Arkel, with a nod, "a brougham." "God knows!" stammered Jen, turning his horrified gaze on the poor girl. He did not know what to do. Isabella was in a dangerous state of hysteria. She had on but a loose white dressing-gown, and her presence in the house at three o'clock in the morning was enough to overpower Jen's sense of the reasonable, independent of the crowning horror of the missing corpse. At this juncture the much-needed aid came from without. David Sarby rushed into the room..
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