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"No. When I was a child I did, and I fancy that my mother also had some belief in it. Brought up among the negroes of Barbadoes both she and I imbibed the superstitions of the black race; but now we have no faith in such follies. For my part," added the girl, anxiously, "I should be glad to get rid of Dido, seeing that with Dr. Etwald and his malignant influence of the Voodoo stone, she is dragging us toward disgrace; but my mother still clings to her as an old servant, and will not let her go." "Molly," he said, when enough tenderness had come back into his arms to let me breathe, "you have almost killed me!" "Ay," thought Jen, as he stood by the bed, "or until the man dies. If he dies without regaining his senses, we will never know the truth.".

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"All those came from Ashantee and the West Coast of Africa," said he, touching a vicious-looking axe. "This is a sacrificial axe; this murderous looking blade is the sword of the executioner of King Koffee; and this," here he laid his fingers lightly upon a slender stick of green wood, with a golden top set roughly with large turquoise stones, "is a poison-wand!" "Why should she be?" returned the other warmly. "Did she have any thought for anything but her own parade when she pretended to be sorry for you? There's such a thing as carrying virtue too far, my dear girl, and I think you're straining your charity with too fine a sieve." "What do you think of the artists now?" asked Patricia, leaning back in the carriage as they were being whirled homeward. "Are they such serious people as you thought them, Norn?" Patricia gave her arm a quick squeeze. "If we weren't on a public platform, I'd kiss you for that, Elinor Kendall," she said, ardently. "You make things so comfortable for me.".