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"Well, have it your own way," said Etwald, carelessly. "I am a scoundrel in your eyes, I dare say; but if you will permit me to see you to-morrow at eleven o'clock I shall be able to prove that this particular devil--meaning myself, major--is not quite so black as you have painted him." "Did--did she cry out?" he asked, nodding toward the girl. "I heard a shriek." "Now we're all ready," she said eagerly when they had made room for the generous figure of the monitor. "Fire away with your tale, young one, and don't spare the details. We're game for any length of story, so long as you can prove it.".
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Conrad
Patricia was only too glad to give in. "That makes it perfectly simple, then," she said gratefully. "I'm tremendously obliged to you for helping me out." It was a melancholy procession which bore the body up to the house. Four men carried the bier--for it was nothing else since it bore the dead body of a young man--and behind came Major Jen bowed to the ground with sorrow. He could hardly believe that Maurice was dead--that he had perished upon a lonely country road by an unknown hand. But that was the question! Jen began to think the assassin was not unknown; that he had a clew to find the guilty one; and he waited the coming of Dr. Etwald with great impatience to see what his opinion was regarding the course to be pursued. "On what charge?" Elinor paused in her hair brushing, and sank down on the stool, absently propping her chin on her brush..
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