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"No," replied David, shortly. "I didn't!" He flung himself into a chair and resumed in a significant tone, "Lady Seamere didn't ask me, and if she had I couldn't have accepted in this dress. Besides, I am not the man whom she delights to honor. Now if Maurice had been there, Lady Meg--" "It does seem ages to wait," agreed Elinor. "After I turn mine in tomorrow morning, I'll be consumed with curiosity to see the others—particularly Doris Leighton's." "Uncle Jen, I want to ask you something.".
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"I'll give you the names later on, Mr. Inspector. In the meantime, be good enough to conclude your report of Battersea's confession. It interests me deeply." "They killed Maurice!" "He took away the body of Mr. Alymer, and you helped him?" Mr. Henderson has been dead forty-two years. He only lived three months after he married Aunt Adeline, and her crêpe veil is over a yard long yet. Men are the dust under her feet, but she likes Dr. John to come over and sit with us, because she can consult with him about what Mr. Henderson really died of, and talk with him about the sad state of poor Mr. Carter's liver for a year before he died. I just go on rocking Billy and singing hymns to him in such a way that I can't hear the conversation. Mr. Carter's liver got on my nerves alive, and dead it does worse. But it hurts when the doctor has to take the little sleep-boy out of my arms to carry him home; though I like it when he says under his breath, "Thank you, Molly.".
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