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This latter was a tall and massively framed negro woman, with very little of the traditional merry nature of the black about her. She looked rather like a priestess, with her stern face and stately mien; and, indeed, in the West Indies, it was known among the negroes that Dido was high in power among the votaries of Obi. She could charm, she could slay by means of vegetable poisons, and she could--as the negroes firmly believed--cause a human being to dwindle, peak and pine, by means of incantations. "I merely raised my voice above the general clamor," Griffin went on with an icy stare towards her hidden critic, "to suggest that we show our appreciation of the delightful entertainment Miss Kendall has so thoughtfully provided us by giving her the Night Life Song, or the Academy Howl, whichever she prefers." She bowed to Elinor with exaggerated politeness. "Which shall it be, Miss Kendall? Each is equally diverting, but the Howl has the merit of greater brevity. No extra charge for the choice, you know, so speak up and name it." "The green stick with the gold handle which was placed among the weapons here. It is gone. What has become of it?".
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"You'll get used to old Bottle Green, all right," said Griffin reassuringly. "Her bark is a whole lot worse than her bite. She's a trump at heart, though she is awful fool on the outside." Jaggard advanced to the trophy of weapons, and examined them with some deliberation, after which he turned to face the irate major. "So you ought to be, Mrs. Dallas, for Dido has been your evil genius. If you had not submitted to her will, she would not have dared to hypnotize you. If you had not been hypnotized on that night, you would not have taken the devil-stick, consequently both David and Maurice would still be alive. Your negress has been a perfect Até, Mrs. Dallas." "You certainly are the limit," she said, gravely. "What makes you care so much about words and names and such like things?" she asked, trying to get at a clearer understanding of her little sister's mental processes..
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