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"Why not?" said Etwald, coolly. "Mrs. Dallas had no reason to steal the devil-stick, yet--" "No, sir, not till to-day. I don't know what it all means, sir, but I'm sure I know how Dido got into the room." He started at the beginning of everything, that is at the beginning of the tuberculosis girl, and I cried over the pages of her as if she had been my own sister. At the tenth page we buried her and took up Alfred, and I must say I saw a new Alfred in the judge's bouquet-strewn appreciation of him, but I didn't want him as bad as I had the day before, when I read his own new and old letters, and cried over his old photographs. I suppose that was the result of some of what the judge manages the juries with. He'd be apt to use it on a woman, and she wouldn't find out about it until it was too late to be anything but mad. Still when he began on me at page sixteen I felt a little better, though I didn't know myself any better than I did Alfred when I got to page twenty. "It is not a woman, but a man. Battersea!".