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"Patricia!" gasped Judith, shocked out of her dreamy calm. "You oughtn't to say things like that. It's—it's not religious!" Here she waited in the shadow of the fluttering violet arc light, with her eyes fastened to the silent, insensible windows. Ten minutes that seemed ten eternities went lagging by. Tears of disappointment rose to Patricia's eyes and she shivered as the gusts of west wind flung the drops from the saturated trees in a silver shower across the darkened panes. "I can't give you my reasons. They would take too long to explain. But I believe that out of jealousy he killed Maurice.".
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Conrad
"Voodoo!" said she, in a harsh voice. "Oh, then," said Etwald, turning toward Jen, "I am not to be accused of the murder." "No," murmured Mrs. Dallas, sinking into a large chair. "You are right. I have been in the sun all the morning, and only now am I beginning to feel warm, I shall certainly go back to Barbadoes." "Yes, yes. You are right!" said Jen, in a bewildered tone. "Still, I cannot believe that Isabella killed Maurice. She loved him dearly, and had no reason to murder him.".
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