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"The devil-stick!" gasped Jen, pointing a shaking finger at the wall. "The devil-stick!","I don't feel that way at all—" began Judith, but their murmured comments halted at Bruce's next words.,"You are not my guest," retorted Jen, furiously.,Patricia made a laughing face.,"I wish I were in the night life," she said resentfully. "I envy you, Norn, being among live people.",She was very pale and tired looking, but as graceful and charming as ever. She inquired after Elinor with a profuse sympathy that more than satisfied the warm-hearted Patricia, whose compassion stirred at her look of fatigue.,"There isn't any more goodness in dismal looks, no, nor half so much, as in happy faces. Don't the cherubim sing eternally? Is there anything said about dark days in the New Jerusalem? I'm ashamed of you, Judith Kendall, for not knowing that it's twice as brave and good to be cheerful and pretty as it is to be moping and dull. Look at Elinor—would we love her if she'd been fussing about the hard times we had? Not much! Every bright smile she had for those horrid times has made her more adorable to me and I look on every bit of happiness we had in those poor days as just so much wrested from the powers of darkness." She stopped suddenly, with a little gasp of embarrassment, as Elinor entered.,"Mother's handkerchief, Dido," explained Isabella, interrupting. "The one you bound round my head.","Really! Any particular friends?","Mother, what is it? What does Dido sing?","Why should it be strange?","Won't it seem queer to you to be anywhere but at Greycroft, though?" mused Patricia, her eyes wide and absent. "Although we've only had the place not quite a year, I feel as though we'd always been there, and I can't imagine how it would seem to have to live anywhere else now.".