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"When folks are sure a thing's worth while, they make it go. Think of how that same party would have slumped if everybody hadn't felt it was the most serious thing in the world to make it real." Then, with a sudden pounce, she changed the subject. "I've seen your wonderful Doris Leighton, Miss Pat, and I must say I don't take very much stock in her." "You can marry Isabella now," he said, bitterly. "Etwald carries it on his watch chain. I saw him the other day in prison and he showed it to me. A common little black stone it is, but Dido would kill him with pleasure to get it.".

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For the next two days Major Jen stayed in his house and watched over the corpse of David. It was laid out in what had been the young man's bedchamber, surrounded by burning candles, and with pale flowers of virginal whiteness scattered on the bed. The whole scene was but a repetition of that which had taken place when Maurice had died. Both young men had perished from the effects of the infernal African poison. Both had perished in the bloom of youth; and on the right hand of each was the fatal wound which had corrupted the blood. But the corpse of David was here. The corpse of Maurice, where? Only Dr. Etwald could answer the question, and he, released on the charge of murder, was now out on bail for the theft of the corpse. "Did--did she cry out?" he asked, nodding toward the girl. "I heard a shriek." So far the reader may wonder at the constituent elements of this story. African witchcraft, mysterious strangers, and barbaric women seem to be out of place when set in the sober framework of an English provincial town. But romance is not dependent upon landscape or on surroundings for its occurrence: it is to be found everywhere, and very often in the most unlikely places. Here, for instance, by some trick of Fate, certain people had come together, certain passions had been aroused, and now that the drama had been set in motion, it seemed likely that it would play itself out to a tragical conclusion. Tragical, certainly; for herein the elements of comedy seem to be wanting. But then Fate is so pessimistic. "But, Mrs. Molly, isn't it worth it all?" asked the doctor as he bent over toward us and looked down with something wonderful and kind in his eyes that seemed to rest on us like a benediction. "You have been just as plucky as a girl can be, and in only a little over two months you have grown as lightfooted and hearty as a boy. I think nothing could be lovelier than you are now, but you can get off those other few pounds if you want to. You know, don't you, that I have known how hard some of it was, and I haven't been able to eat as much as I usually do, thinking how hungry you are? But isn't it all worth it? I think it is. Alfred Bennett is a very great man, and it is right that he should have a very lovely wife to go out into the world with him. And as lovely as you are I think it is wonderful of you to make all this sacrifice to be still lovelier for him. I am glad I can help you, and it has taught me something to see how—how faithful a woman can be across years—and then in this smaller thing! Now give me Bill and you get your apple and toast. Don't forget to take your letter in out of the dew." I sat perfectly still and held Billy tighter in my arms as I looked up at his father, and then after I had thought as long as I could stand it, I spoke right out at him as mad as could be, and I don't to this minute know why..