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"I could not get Isabella further than the door of your house," exclaimed Mrs. Dallas, who was in deep mourning, whether for Maurice or David, or for the loss of Dido, it was impossible to say.,"I am glad to see that you are better, Jaggard," he said, while standing by the bed.,Miss Jinny chuckled and then grew grave and thoughtful.,I met him in the front hall just in time to prevent a hopeless scar on my parquet floor. He was hot, perspiring and panting, but full of triumph.,"The song it is," cried Griffin, stepping on a chair and beginning to beat time with a big paint-brush. "Now then, all together, my children. Warble!",Dido threw up one dark hand with an ejaculation.,"You approved of my reasons before, major. You shall approve of them again. In the meantime, until the trial, let us remain strangers.",Judith put the key in its lock, turned it easily and then swung the door wide, but before the others could catch even a glimpse of the interior, she gave a little squeaking cry and rushed in, leaving the door to bang after her.,CHAPTER X. FURTHER MYSTERY.,Patricia took the bit of canvas board, and held it at arm's length, squinting at it with eyes that gradually brightened.,She knew very well what it was, for her grandmother had been carried off as a slave from the west coast of Africa, and knew all about Ashantee sorcery and fetish rites. These she had repeated to her granddaughter Dido, with the result that Dido, cherishing these recollections, knew exactly how to use the wand of sleep. She had spoken about it to Dr. Etwald, quite ignorant that Jen kept one as a curiosity, and now Etwald had intimated through Battersea that he wished her to do something in connection with the stick. What that something might be Dido at the present moment could not guess.,"We didn't many of us tell, you know," returned Elinor absently, with her eyes on Morgiana meekly following her master with the basket of fruit which was to be such a feature in her triumphant dance after the robbers had been boiled alive in their own panniers. "There's Margaret Howes. Isn't she lovely in that pomegranate and gold? What queer slippers she has—just like the ballet dancers. And there's Ali Baba with the forty thieves, all the portrait class men in a bunch.".