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Elinor jumped up laughing, and hugged her. "I'll be as conceited as you like, if you'll stop scolding," she promised, gayly. "It doesn't look well to be too much under the thumb of a younger sister, even if she is a promising sculptor. By the way, how are you getting on? I hear that Miss Griffin is a wonderful worker. Did you see anything of her work?" "Because Maurice was engaged to your daughter, whom he wished to marry. Etwald killed my poor lad, so as to remove a dangerous rival from his path." A tall, good-looking man in tweeds was shaking hands heartily with Hannah Ann, while an esthetically dressed, rather languid young lady in pastel green was trying to introduce a pretty, smiling blond girl in black furs whom Patricia easily recognized as the original of the photograph that had stood on Mr. Lindley's desk at Greycroft, and the Haldens were explaining how they heard that the Lindleys were in town and so had come in on an earlier train specially to capture them for the house-breaking..
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The public prosecutor thought that the interruption of his learned friend was out of place; as the refusal of Mrs. Dallas--"mother, gentlemen of the jury, to the young lady engaged to the deceased gentleman, Mr. Maurice Alymer"--had nothing to do with the actual facts of the case. The prisoner, seeing that while Mr. Alymer lived, he could never marry Miss Dallas, determined to rid himself of a rival. The prisoner had been in Barbadoes, and while there he had learned many things concerning African witchcraft, and had become possessor of the Voodoo stone, a talisman which the black race held in peculiar reverence. On his return to England the prisoner had become acquainted with Mrs. Dallas, with the daughter, whom he designed to marry, and with a negress called Dido, the servant of the aforesaid Mrs. Dallas. By means of the Voodoo stone, the prisoner made an absolute slave of the negress, and could command her services at any time, even to the extent of crime. Of course, anybody that is anybody would be interested in Father Tiber and the old Colosseum, but what made me forget the one slice of dry toast and the apple was the way he seemed to be connecting me up with all those wonderful old antiquities that had never even seen me. Because of me he had felt and written that poem descriptive of old Tiber, and the moonlight had lit up the Colosseum just because I was over here lighting up Hillsboro. Of course, that is not the way he put it all, but there is no place to really copy what he did say down into this imp book and, anyway, that is the sentiment he expressed, boiled down and sugared over. "Jiminy, I wish Tuesday were here and over!" she said fervently. "I'm scared stiff when I think of my poor little study with all those artists focusing their eagle eyes on it." Patricia stamped her foot in vexation. "What do you mean?" she cried. "You're the most exasperating——".
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