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The dancing was beginning as Patricia made her way slowly across the great room to the laughing group where she had seen Doris Leighton but a moment ago, and before she was halfway across Doris and a tall Turk swung past her in the whirl of the newest dance, followed by Elinor and Aladdin, and then by Griffin and the young king of the Black Isles. Patricia stood still in sudden swift contrition.,
Judith, who was studying under the lamp at the center table with her fingers screwed into her ears and her mouth twisted intently in pursuit of knowledge, came abruptly back to life.,
Bruce and Elinor were inspecting the rooms on the other side of the studio, and had passed out of sight behind the second doorway. Patricia forgot her censorship as the spirit of the explorer rose in her.,
"I like that!" she cried. "Who took care of us all those years when we were poor and alone in the world? It's late in the day for Elinor to need protectors."
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"Indeed! And am I ever to learn the reason of your extraordinary behavior?",
"Well, I just guess it isn't any game," retorted Judith with a toss of her mane. "It's the most important thing in life to me," and she stalked off towards the door with great dignity.,
Jen rose to his feet and stretched out one hand toward Arkel.,
Patricia shut her door with a snap and turned to her sister with a glowing face, sweeping her stray tendrils back with an eager gesture.
As dirty and disreputable as ever, Battersea, rolling his cap in his dirty hands, made his appearance on the threshold of the library, conducted by the disgusted footman. When the door was closed behind him, and he stood alone before those who were about to examine him, he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, blinked his bleared eyes, and blushed as with the shame of guilt through the sallow darkness of his skin. Jen, with the military instinct of command fully awakened within him, looked sternly at the feeble old creature, and questioned him sharply, as though he were talking to a soldier who had done wrong. On her part, Lady Meg left the most part of the examination to the major; but she listened with anxious looks and parted lips to every word which fell from the tramp's lips. The death of the man whom she had loved so deeply had inflicted terrible anguish upon her loving heart, and, as a tribute to his memory, she was anxious to punish his assassin. But at present, influenced by the views of the major, she began to waver in her opinion regarding the guilt of the weak-brained creature who stood trembling nervously at the doorway.
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The more Jen thought about the matter the more perplexed did he become. The recovered devil-stick, found in the grounds of Mrs. Dallas, the saturated handkerchief found in the bedroom of the dead man; and now the unaccountable hints of David that he knew something likely to throw a light upon these mysteries, joined with an equally unaccountable refusal to afford such revelation, all these things puzzled him; but as it was impossible in the absence of actual knowledge, to come to any reasonable decision, Jen determined to see Jaggard and see how he was. If Jaggard could only recover his senses, argued the major, he would be able to say who had stolen the body. Moreover, in Jen's opinion, the person who committed the second crime would most probably, by the force of analogous reasoning, have committed the first.
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Patricia could scarcely wait till Miss Leighton was out of earshot.
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>"I am taking too much for granted," muttered Major Jen, passing his hand across his brow, "Maurice may not have been killed after all. It is Etwald and his horrible prophecies which have put the idea into my head. Let me have a look at the poor lad's body."
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