"Do you remember Provin's story of the woman whose maid shot a masseuse whom she took to be her mistress; and the woman forgave the shooting and seemed to have her arrested chiefly because she had mistaken her for a masseuse ?" "Too easy, Cawthorne," said Chillingworth.
"The woman is probably an Italian," said the telegraph editor, "doing one of her Mafia stunts.

It's time they left the politicians alone and threw bombs at the bonds that back them." "Hey, Carbury.

Stop writing heads," said Chillingworth.
"Has Miss Holland lived abroad ?" asked Crass, the feature man.
"Maybe this woman was her nurse or ayah or something who got fond of her charge, and when they took it away years ago, she devoted her life to trying to find it in America.

And when she got here she wasn't able to make herself known to her, and rather than let any one else--" "No more space-grabbing, Crass," warned Chillingworth.
"Maybe," ventured Horace, "the young lady did settlement work and read to the woman's kid, and the kid died, and the woman thought she'd said a charm over it." Chillingworth grinned affectionately.
"Hold up," he commanded, "or you'll recall the very words of the charm." Bennietod gasped and stared.
"Now, Bennietod ?" Amory encouraged him.
"I t'ink," said the lad, "if she's a heiress, dis yere dagger-plunger is her mudder dat's been shut up in a mad-house to a fare-you-well." Chillingworth nodded approvingly.
"Your imagination is toning down wonderfully," he flattered him.

"A month ago you would have guessed that the mulatto lady was an Egyptian princess' messenger sent over here to get the heart from an American heiress as an ingredient for a complexion lotion.