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"Doubtless. I hardly anticipated an easy task when I undertook to learn who killed my dear lad. Besides, David will help me." A heavy-shouldered dark man, whose workmanlike appearance was heightened by the torn and spotted linen apron he wore, came quietly over to Patricia, and, taking the wire from Miss Griffin's thin, nervous hands, silently and swiftly finished the work she had begun, while she, with a nod of acquiescence, went to her own stand and began to thump lumps of clay into shape about her own iron head-piece. "Oh!" said David, with a sneer. "I overheard you arrange to marry her. But you'll never do that while I am alive, or Mrs. Dallas either.".
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"Nor that, either." "Pooh, I'm not a bit tired," protested Judith. "I sit this way every night for hours." Patricia and Elinor, who, with Judith, had put on their best for the little spree, were in the highest spirits and were delighted with everything, remembering many of the chief features of the room and pointing them out to each other until David protested. "I think Miss Jinny has hurt her hand, Miss Pat," she said with exaggerated anxiety. "She's got her handkerchief wrapped about it. I hope it isn't badly hurt—she doesn't look as if it were inimical, does she?".
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