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"To be queen of the black witches of Obi, no doubt. Faugh!","Won't it seem queer to you to be anywhere but at Greycroft, though?" mused Patricia, her eyes wide and absent. "Although we've only had the place not quite a year, I feel as though we'd always been there, and I can't imagine how it would seem to have to live anywhere else now.","Lunch time!" repeated David, warmly. "I'm aiming to survive till at least five minutes after! Think of all the good things we're going to massacre. Where does Elinor want to go, Miss Pat? She didn't nominate it in her note!","And condemn the poor girl to eternal misery," said Etwald. "Well, I do not agree with you. But, at least, keep silent until after our interview to-morrow.","Don't want any thanks," returned Bruce gruffly. "Your aunt would understand it. I'm only beginning to pay my debt to her, and it's going to take a mighty long while, too.","I have told anyone who asked me," said Elinor, evenly, though her cheeks were beginning to burn. "I came in on Bruce Haydon's recommendation.","I did not, however, Jaggard. I fell asleep in the library, after Mr. Sarby had gone to bed; and, of course, I had every confidence in you.","Mrs. Johnson," I said after a minute's silence, while I had decided whether or not I had better tell her all about it. If a woman's in love with her husband you can't trust her to keep a secret, but I decided to try Mrs. Johnson. "I really am not engaged exactly to Alfred Bennett, though I suppose he thinks so by now if he has got the answer to that telegram. But—but something has made me—made me think about Judge Wade—that is he—what do you think of him, Mrs. Johnson?" I concluded in the most pitifully perplexed tone of voice.,"I didn't understand you were joking," he said quietly.,Patricia laughed and blushed with pleasure, preening herself a little and stretching on tiptoe to try to catch a glimpse in the crowded mirror; there was a movement as a sultana who had been carmining her full lips gave place to a dark beggar maid, and Patricia caught the vision of a slender, airy figure, glittering beneath its gauzy draperies with the sparkle of bright gold, and with the glint and shimmer of rosy clanking bracelets and anklets, and the spangled glory of the rose-crowned headpiece stirring a magical memory of Persia.,CHAPTER I THE TWO NEW STUDENTS,A real love-letter ought to be like a cream puff with a drop of dynamite in it. Alfred's was that kind. I felt warm and happy down to my toes as I read it, and I turned round so that old Lilac Bush couldn't peep over my shoulder at what he said..