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"I had my reasons for not doing so, Mrs. Dallas," replied Maurice, quickly. "But I was about to tell you of our engagement when Dr. Etwald forestalled me by making his unexpected offer.","By the right of our conversation last night, Mr. Alymer. You have forestalled me, I see. No matter," added Etwald, with a sneer. "To-day to you; to-morrow to me.",And from then on for hours and hours I was strapped to a torture wheel that turned and turned, minute after minute, as it ground spice and sugar and bridal meats and me relentlessly into a great suffering pulp. Could I ever in all my life have hungered for food and been able to get it past the lump in my throat that grew larger with the seconds? And if Alfred's pudding tasted of the salt of Dead Sea fruit this evening, it was from my surreptitious tears that dripped into it.,"Rather peculiar, don't you think, seeing that he must necessarily have been ignorant of your visit on that night?","I'll come over to your room in just twenty-five minutes to the dot," called Miss Jinny after her, as she gathered her draperies about her and fled down the hall.,It's my duty to look the matter in the face before I look in Alfred's—and decide. If not Alfred, what then?,"Pooh, I shan't mind how criss-cross he is," declared Patricia valiantly. "I'm only the rankest greenhorn, anyway. He can't expect me to be a Rodin.","No. I can understand your anger from your point of view.","You are sure it was that hour?",But Elinor, far from showing rancor, shook the bony hands and kissed the sunken cheeks with as good grace as though she were receiving her dearest friends. She even made some little speech to each, though Patricia was too far away to catch more than a word or two.,Patricia held Judith close, with her own heart beating tumultuously to the rhythm of the storm. Hard rattling drops castinetted at the glass, beating an accompaniment to the roar of the racing clouds. For a moment all was black, then, as the whirling cloud masses swept apart, the pelting drops lulled and a gray twilight full of ominous murmurs filled the place. Before Patricia could frame the swift thought that the storm was passing, darkness swept over them again, and the fierce scream of the relentless wind tore at the corners of the barn. The rain beat, deluged, engulfed the out-of-doors; it drummed gayly with diminishing ferocity; then it roared sullenly, flooding the rain spouts to bursting; it raged again, with the scream of the wind growing higher, and snapping branches flung themselves past the gray squares of the windows, flying leaves pasted wet green blurs on the streaming glass. Judith shuddered.,"Y—yes," responded Patricia dubiously. "But I'll never be an artist. I sort of felt that long ago, but now I'm dead certain of it, and it seems like a sham to haul out that effort in the face of Elinor's splendid work.".