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Patricia watched her disappear behind the big screen of the composition room, and then she turned excitedly to Elinor. "I shall tell the master all!" she muttered in her own barbaric dialect, "and he will tell me what to do. The spirit in the Voodoo stone will tell him." Having come to this resolution she went into the house to ask, or rather to demand, permission to visit Deanminster. That she was about to call upon Etwald, the negress did not think it necessary to tell Mrs. Dallas. There were matters between her and the doctor of which Mrs. Dallas knew nothing, which she would not have understood if she had known. When she inquired, Dido merely hinted that such secrets had to do with Obi, when the superstitious nature of Mrs. Dallas immediately shrank from pursuing an inquiry into what were, even to this civilized so-called Christian woman, secret mysteries. "No, doctor! I am too weary to frame theories at this hour of the night. But, no doubt, Mr. Inspector yonder, can--".

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"Verses, too!" cried Margaret Howes. "Verses on every one of them. Read them aloud, everybody in turn. Hurry up and get them all together." "Oh! so she is an old friend of yours?" "Of course, or I'd have sent word by you instead of phoning," said Elinor quickly. "Come along down, both of you. Everything is ready, and Margaret Howes is making Welsh rarebit just specially for you—she heard you say you adored it. Hurry, hurry." "Not at all," rejoined Jen, coldly. "I can understand her reason for telling the lie. She wanted to shield--".