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That it was a crime he was certain, for there was no reasonable idea to suppose that Maurice had committed suicide. He had left for Deanminster hardly three hours before, full of health and spirits; and now he was dead. A dead body, a lonely road--all the evidence of an atrocious assassination having been committed, and not one trace of the assassin. Undoubtedly the twice-uttered cry had come from Maurice, and as Jen had raced out of the house after the first time he heard it, he must have reached his boy almost immediately after he died; before, so to speak, the body had time to grow cold. Yet the strange part of the affair was that the body was cold, and that there did not seem to be any wound whereby the murder could have been achieved. "No, we looked for them high and low, but didn't see hide nor hair of them," he answered, ruffing his hair in a way that distressed Patricia, who was very proud of his straight, shining locks. "Mercy! Are we so late?" exclaimed Elinor, remorsefully. "Hurry, Judith. Don't wait for me. I'll catch up to you before you get to the corner.".
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Conrad
"This is nice enough," she said incisively. "It takes away the taste of the jumbled dressing room, but it makes me all the readier for the real thing—the people and the lights and the dancing. I simply can't waste another instant," and she parted the heavy fold and they slipped into the radiant Arabian land of fairy. Dr. Etwald approached, with what was meant for a smile on his usually sombre face, and took off his hat to Miss Dallas. But he did not speak as he made his salutation, so the girl was forced, by reason of this uncomfortable silence, to make the first observation. "Well?" demanded Jen, coldly, seeing the hesitation of the man. CHAPTER XV AFTERNOON TEA.
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