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"I'll be along later. I've got something to attend to first," promised Patricia, inwardly quaking lest the other should offer to wait for her; but she went off with the crowd that was hurrying into the clay room, and Patricia was free to arrange her surprise.,

"This is nice enough," she said incisively. "It takes away the taste of the jumbled dressing room, but it makes me all the readier for the real thing—the people and the lights and the dancing. I simply can't waste another instant," and she parted the heavy fold and they slipped into the radiant Arabian land of fairy.,

And it was well I did come to save Ruth Clinton from a dancing death, for she is as light as a feather and sails on the air like thistle-down. I felt sorry for Tom, for when he was with me he could see her, and when he was with her I pouted at him, even over Judge Wade's arm. I verily believe it was from being really jealous that he asked little Pet Buford to dance with him—by mistake as it were.,

"Judy, of course, will go to school," he said, blowing a little smoke ring at her. "Miss Pat will go to the sculpturing as usual, but may have a hand in any game here that she is able to hold up. You'll learn a heap, Paddy Malone, if you keep those ears of yours open, for Grantly, the fellow who is doing the bas-reliefs for the State Capitol building, will be about occasionally, and he's a cracker-jack in his line."

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"Rubbish, my boy. It has been hanging on the wall for years, and has never hurt anyone yet!",

"God knows!" stammered Jen, turning his horrified gaze on the poor girl. He did not know what to do. Isabella was in a dangerous state of hysteria. She had on but a loose white dressing-gown, and her presence in the house at three o'clock in the morning was enough to overpower Jen's sense of the reasonable, independent of the crowning horror of the missing corpse. At this juncture the much-needed aid came from without. David Sarby rushed into the room.,

What his real name was nobody knew, but he said that he was called Battersea, after the parish in which he had been reared as a foundling.,

"But how do you know it isn't David's?" persisted Judith, as she gathered up her letters. "We never asked David when his birthday came, did we?"