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Griffin nodded. "Tabby March, you know. The young woman who paints pussies. Used to go here three years ago, before she'd arrived. She was a wild one, I can tell you.",

"From the peculiar, sickly, heavy odor," explained Jen, promptly; and continued: "Well, you can see the rest for yourself. Dido filled that devil-stick with the poison," he pointed to the article on the table, "some of it remains in the wand yet. Etwald used the devil-stick to kill Maurice, and on going back to tell Dido of his success I have no doubt he dropped it inside the gates of Mrs. Dallas' grounds, where, as you have heard, it was found by Battersea. Oh, it is as plain as day to me," cried Jen, vehemently. "Etwald killed Maurice and stole the devil-stick to accomplish the murder.",

"I'm always making mountains out of mole-hills, and having you level them for me, Norn," she said, taking a glass of sherbet from the flower-wreathed tray of the charming slave. "I wish I wasn't such an alarmist. I felt as frantic as though Doris Leighton had drawn a dagger, and now I can see what a goose I am.",

"I make de spell. I know. De spell say dat doctor, he marry you!"

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I sat down at the long table by the window and slowly prepared to enjoy myself. I cut off four slices and buttered them to an equal thickness, and then more slowly put a long silver spoon into the jam. I even paused to admire in Jane's mirror over the table the effect of the cascade of lace that fell across my arm and lost itself in the blue shimmer of Madame Rene's masterpiece of a negligée, then deep down I buried the spoon in the purple sweetness. I had just lifted it high in the air when out of the lilac-scented dark of the garden came a laugh.,

"Yes," I said slowly, and as I looked out of the corner of my eyes from under the lashes that Tom himself had once told me were "too long and black to be tidy," I saw that he was in a condition to get the full shock. "If anybody wakes up this town it will be I," I said as I flung down the gauntlet with a high head.,

The others stared at him, and with the skepticism of thoroughly healthy minds refused to attach much importance to Etwald's mysticism. Jen was the first to speak, and he did so in rather a stiff way, quite different from his usual jovial style of conversation.,

"Woman," cried Jen, with energy, "no one but you could manufacture the poison with which the devil-stick was filled."