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"No, no!" cried Isabella, with a shudder. "Don't tell me any more of those horrible things." "Is it?" exclaimed Patricia, equally startled. "I didn't know it was. Mr. Spicer said it himself yesterday when he was talking to me in the print room, and I was telling him about your poor basket and saving bank, and all that. I'm awfully sorry, Miss Jinny." "Well, from all my long experience, Molly," she said as she seated herself and began to hem a tea-cloth with long steady stabs, "husbands are just like sticks of candy in different jars. They may look a little different, but they all taste alike, and you soon get tired of them. In two months you won't know the difference in being married to Alfred Bennett and Mr. Carter, and you'll have to go on living with him maybe fifty years. Luck doesn't strike twice in the same place, and you can't count on losing two husbands. Alfred's father was Mr. Johnson's first cousin and had more crotchets and worse. He had silent spells that lasted a week, and altogether gave his family a bad time of it. Alfred looks very much like him.".
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"Poor David!" echoed Etwald, with a sneer. "Foolish David, you might say, to die for the sake of a woman." "I see why Judy is so keen on the fine arts just now," teased David as he dropped into step again. "Lots of material for current fiction, eh, Ju?" "H'm; it's queer! I'll have to think it over. But when the body was taken out of the window, Arkel?" Patricia smiled at Elinor's fervid response and Judith's calm approval, but she uttered never a word, though Bruce looked at her inquiringly..
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