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"I'm not so sure that it makes a bit of difference," said Patricia carelessly. "I've heard of people miles apart having the same idea at the same time. Patents are always being duplicated, you know." The three people turned and saw Dido, with an expression of triumph on her dark face, enter the room. "I thought Miss Green was really quite clever," said Elinor brightly. "She certainly read the verse attached to her's with a lot of expression. I didn't think she could be so sprightly.".

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"Judy likes to see herself go by in the mirror," smiled Elinor leniently. "I suppose that's the literary mind." Elinor hesitated. "I don't know," she replied slowly, measuring her words. "I can't put my finger on it, but she doesn't seem the same to me as she did at first. She isn't jealous of my poor work, of course, but I can feel a something—a wall or barrier—that she raises up between us whenever my work is spoken of. I felt it when we talked about the subject of the prize designs, and I felt it today more clearly than ever. We can't be friends any more as we were, I'm afraid. Something has come between us. 'The little rift within the lute,'" she quoted sorrowfully. It struck his sense of smell with the belief that he had smelt it before. Nothing is so strong to awaken memory as odor, and in less than half a minute the mind of the major leaped back to where he had smelt it before. It was the perfume of the dried poison of the devil-stick. "Your mudder, she say no!".