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"Can we force her by threats to give evidence?" said Jen, angrily.,"I wish I could draw," mused Patricia, absently sugaring her Frankfurter. "I've got tons of ideas already.","Yes. To ask if I would see her mistress; a most unnecessary question.",I saw the worst was over, and I breathed freely again. There was nothing for it but to go with him, and I wanted to most awfully.,"But what are you talking of?" broke in Jen, impetuously. "You say that my poor boy died from blood-poisoning. How else could he have come by that, save through being touched or struck with the devil-stick? No one in the neighborhood was likely to possess any weapon likely to corrupt the blood. If Maurice had been stabbed, or shot, or if his head had been smashed in, I could understand the crime--or rather the motive for the crime--better; but as it is, the person who stole the devil-stick must have killed him.","We'll be here," promised Madalon, following her sister's example. "We'll have to miss lunch and the Senior dance, but what's a mere dance compared to helping a neighbor say farewell to their happy little home. Look for us at twelve-thirty sharp and prepare an extra mess of pottage, for we'll both be fearfully hungry. Tell David and Tom Hughes we'll come in on the same train they do. Good-bye, be good till Saturday and then we'll all be happy.","Ah," cried Jen, "you admit your guilt?",Judith's only reply was a giggle.,"Mr. Maurice! God, sir, what does this mean?" he cried, aghast with sudden horror.,Dinner was long over, Judith's lessons done and bed-time come, when at last Patricia hurried down to the long parlor where Doris sat in the dim light.,Mrs. Shelly went on with her knitting, but Patricia, who was mending a long rent in her best blouse, looked up with eager interest.,"I should if I were you. Mr. Sarby is in London. Why not wire up to him to bring down a clever man from Scotland Yard?".