That man's face Mollie never
saw, nor has she the least idea of whom it may be. She is inclined to
suspect you."
"Me!"
The doctor's stare of astonishment was a sight to behold.
"It is you, or Sardonyx, or Ingelow--one of you three, Mollie is
certain. The particular one she can't decide. She dreads it may be
either the lawyer or the doctor, and hopes, with all her heart, it may
be the artist."
Dr. Oleander's swarthy brows knit with a midnight scowl.
"She is in love with this puppy, Ingelow. I have thought as much for
some time."
"Hopelessly in love with him, and perfectly willing to be his wife, if
he proves to be her husband. Should it chance to be you, she will
administer a dose of strychnine the first available opportunity."
"She said that, did she?"
"That, and much more. She hates, detests, and abhors you, and loves the
handsome artist with all her heart."
"The little jade! And how about her elderly admirer?"
"Sir Roger? Oh! he is to get the go-by. 'Men have died, and worms have
eaten them, but not for love.' He will stand the blow.
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