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"I knew that you possessed it, my dear major, as I had been informed of its existence and of its owner by Dido. Over this negress, by means of the Voodoo stone, I possessed complete power. She was ready to do whatever I wanted, and I employed her in forwarding my schemes. Her grandmother had come from 'Ashantee,' the native country of the wand of sleep, and knew all about it; also she knew how to prepare the poison. These secrets she transmitted to Dido, and I resolved to obtain the devil-stick, to make Dido prepare fresh poison, and to use the devil-stick against my rival, Mr. Alymer. "De debble-stick! Whar is it?".

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"Never mind, my dear lady, you will later on," retorted Jen, with a nod. Then turning to Battersea, he resumed his examination. "You know the negress. Dido, who is in the employment of Mrs. Dallas?" he asked, mildly. But Jaggard was far from the condition of connected thought or coherent words. He turned and tossed upon his poor bed with bright eyes, burning skin and babbling tongue. His head was swathed in bandages, and the housemaid who watched beside him had frequently to replace the clothes he tossed off in his violent movements. This nurse was a sickly, dark-eyed creature, who was strongly attached to Jaggard; and it was her love for him that made her proffer her services to look after him, and that chained her to his bedside. She reported to her master that Dr. Etwald had been in that morning, and was coming again in the afternoon, but that there was nothing to be done until the delirium had expended itself. Just as she emerged into the open she heard a sharp click, and saw Maurice approaching. He was dressed in his flannels, and looked particularly handsome, she thought; the more so when she beheld his face lighting up at her unexpected appearance. The magnetism of love drew them irresistibly together, and in less time than it takes to write, Isabella was lying on the broad breast of her lover and he was fondly kissing her lips. There is one exercise here on page twenty that I hate worst of all. You screw up your face tight until you look like a Christmas mask to get your neck muscles taut, and then wobble your head round like a new-born baby until it swims. I did that one twenty extra times and all the others in proportion to make up for those two hours in bed. Hereafter I'll get up at the time directed on page three, or maybe earlier. It frightens me to think that I've got only a few weeks more to turn from a cabbage-rose into a lily. I won't let myself even think "perfect flower" and "scarlet runner." If I do, I get warm and happy all over. I try when I get hungry to think of myself in that blue muslin dress..