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Updated: June 16, 2025
Then Romantin plunged his hand into a cupboard, and drew forth twenty empty bottles, which he fixed in the form of a crown around the hoop. He then went downstairs to borrow a ladder from the janitress, after having explained that he had made interest with the old woman by painting the portrait of her cat, exhibited on the easel.
The facts established by the jury were, that the woman was dead; that hydrocyanic acid had killed her; that the cause of death was so evident that it was only necessary to examine the contents of the stomach; that apparently none of the candied fruit had been disturbed, as the box was even full and the top layer as smooth as when first packed; that a chemical analysis proved that no poison of any kind was in any of the candied fruit in the box; that no vial could be found on or near the woman after death, and that a thorough search of the apartment failed to disclose any of this or any other kind of poison; that the woman was quite alone in the apartment when death took place and was only discovered by the janitress at ten o'clock at night, at which time she entered the apartment, having been invited to sleep there during the absence of the child in the country, whither she had gone a few days previous to this for a week's stay; that Mrs.
Susan waited in the back room of the saloon nearest O'Ryan's lodgings and sent a boy to ask him to come. The boy came back with the astonishing message that she was to come to O'Ryan's flat. Susan was so doubtful that she paused to ask the janitress about it. "It's all right," said the janitress. "Since his wife died three years ago him and his baby lives alone.
This caused a passing unpleasantness between one big white goat and the janitress of the tenement on the corner. Being crowded up against the wall by the animal, bent on exploring her pockets, she beat it off with her scrubbing-pail and mop.
Harlowe to find out whether her daughter's cheek had been seriously cut, which it had not, and the principal to ask a few questions. "Did it look like a trick, Grace?" she asked when she had heard the story. "I hardly know, Miss Thompson. I feel certain that I left the door open when I went in. The janitress may have locked it without seeing me."
The woman in the gray cloak had called on him once or twice in the previous month and had come once since. She was a sort of janitress, as she had a key and straightened up his room. There was no hint of help in this. There was only one of his haunts that they had not thoroughly examined, that was the club. There was no need for that, as they knew every one that came and went, at least by sight.
Upon his return a somewhat notorious woman principal called on him and informed him that she was responsible for his election at least, his name had been submitted to her and received her approval. He replied that he felt she deserved no thanks for that, as he had no desire to serve. She said she had but one request to make; her janitress must not be removed. He gave her no assurances.
"Or, if not, some other chap who, recognising it, ordered his regiment to halt and present arms." "To whom?" "To the vineyard where the grape in that bottle was grown." Cassy shook out a napkin. "You talk just like my janitress. I never understand a word she says."
Though she was not a Jewess, she was wearing one of the wigs assumed by orthodox Jewish women when they marry. She stared at Susan with not a sign of recognition. "I am looking for Miss Clara," said Susan. The janitress debated, shifted her baby from one arm to the other, glanced inquiringly at the other women. They shook their heads; she looked at Susan and shook her head.
And there is no telling what else might not have happened if, at that moment, the janitress had not begun to call again, though this time it was Cis she wanted. And what she had for Cis was a heavy pasteboard box that was nearly as long as the table. In the box, wearing a truly gorgeous dress and hat and shoes, was Edwarda. "A Princess of a doll!" cried Cis, dancing with happiness.
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