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She never finished what she was about to say, for at that moment Dido stretched out one arm, and uttered one name, "Batt'sea!" What brought me to consciousness was his fumbling with the lace on that blue muslin relict of a sentiment. The lace had got caught on his sleeve buttons. "I can't exactly describe it. A rich, heavy, deadly sort of thing, likely, I should think, to dull the sharpest senses.".
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As her eyes grew accustomed to the flicker and motion, she searched for Elinor, and saw her at last, the center of the weird procession, standing quietly beside the chair from which she had risen, holding her head with a sweet and gracious dignity that went straight to Patricia's chilled heart. "Yes," replied Maurice, deliberately. "I suspect Dido, the negress." Battersea was supposed to be a Christian; but the barbaric fluid in his veins inclined him to the terrible grotesqueness of African witchcraft, and Dido and her words stirred some dim instinct in his mind. The negress saw that accident had placed in her way a helpless creature who might be of use in her necromantic business; therefore, by hypnotizing him once or twice, she contrived to keep him within her power. All of which fantasy would have been denied by the average British newspaper reader, who can not imagine such things taking place in what he calls euphoniously a Christian land. But this happened, for all his denial. Patricia and Elinor puckered their brows over it, but Miss Jinny, craning her head over their shoulders, gave a snort..
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