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"My lil missy want you, sar," said Dido, going straight to the point. "Obi!" was the brief reply. "You hab told ole Dido what she wish about de debble-stick." I don't know what I'm going to do about this book, and I've got myself into trouble about writing things besides records in it. He looked at me this morning as coolly as if I was just anybody and said—.

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"Very good." Etwald walked toward the door, but there, struck by a sudden thought, he looked back. "Of course you will not tell Isabella that she killed Mr. Alymer?" he said, hurriedly. "I can't exactly describe it. A rich, heavy, deadly sort of thing, likely, I should think, to dull the sharpest senses." "Patience! Patience! I shall tell you when the time comes. But, by the way, major--Dido?" Maurice looked--the devil-stick was gone!.