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"Lots of time for it," said Patricia, yawning and flinging herself down on the wide couch. "The men aren't through in there for more than an hour yet.","There's a picture for you, Elinor," said David, pointing to the beautiful serrated mass of the great buildings looming misty-blue against the gold. "Can't you remember that, and put it on canvas when you get home?",Patricia giggled. "You're in for it, Norn. You have to pony up for the head and the night life, too. I'm in luck to be in the mudpie department.",The sultana, speaking with decidedly un-oriental diction, came shimmering over to them, and shook hands with occidental heartiness.,Elinor dropped on a stool and raised her face to her sister, and Patricia was surprised to see that her eyes were shining with joy instead of tears.,David, who was watching him, felt an instinctive feeling that Etwald was telling a lie. He saw that the man could hardly keep his seat for his eagerness to examine and handle the strange weapon. However, he said nothing, but watched and watched, when Maurice made a remark about the stick.,Patricia and Elinor puckered their brows over it, but Miss Jinny, craning her head over their shoulders, gave a snort.,"I got my criticism! And he said the work was good! Now I can write to Bruce," and her voice rang with a thrilling note of joy that carried Patricia with her.,"Well, well, dearie, I don't know about that," said Aunt Bettie as she fanned and rocked her great, big, darling, fat self in the strong rocking-chair I always kept for her. "Alfred is not old enough to have proved himself entirely, and from what I hear——" she paused with the big hearty smile that she always wears when she begins to tease or match-make, and she does them both most of her time.,"Hush," cautioned Patricia, using her eyes industriously. "It must be all right, or Bruce wouldn't have brought us. I like it. The floor is sanded, Judy! And those people at the snippy little tables under the stairs are French—just hear them gabble to the waiter.",There are a great many kinds of good-feeling in this world, from radiant joy down to perfect bliss; but this spring I have got an attack of just old-fashioned happiness that looks as if it might become chronic.,"Yes, major. It was this way. I was seated by the bed, at the foot of it, with my face to the door. The window, as I said, was locked. She could not have got in at the window, and had she entered by the door I should have seen her. Besides," added Jaggard, in a faint voice, "she grabbed me from behind.".