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"I've taken a studio apartment, and I've got someone to keep house—just for a month—and I'm banking on you all coming to spend that month with me. I want you to have this chance at some outside work," he said to Elinor. "I'm not so keen on this academic work for a steady job. I want you to keep up your life class, of course, but there's a big lot of education lying around in the studios for this short time anyway. I may not be able to offer it to you again, as I'll have to be off as soon as this contract is finished. Will you come?" "The jailer told me that Dido had called him in, saying that I had fainted. While they were getting me round--which took an hour--Dido went off with the Voodoo stone. Those about the prison had no reason to detain her, so she left. When I found the Voodoo stone gone," added Etwald, impressively. "I knew that the black wretch would give evidence against me, and that the game was at an end." "No, doctor! I am too weary to frame theories at this hour of the night. But, no doubt, Mr. Inspector yonder, can--".

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"See here!" said Jen, pressing or rather squeezing the handle. "I tighten my grip upon this, and the sting of the serpent shows itself!" Whereupon Etwald glanced at the end of the wood and saw a tiny needle of iron push itself out. When Jen relaxed his pressure on the gold handle, this iron tongue slipped back and disappeared entirely. "Tom!" I gasped. "Yes. I was taken advantage of for once in my life. A cunning woman, that Dido. She got permission to see me in prison, and to talk to me alone, under the pretense of telling me about her evidence. Knowing that I could compel her to do what I wished by means of the Voodoo stone, I saw her with pleasure, as it was my intention to put the words likely to get me off--to prove my innocence--into her mouth. However, while I was talking to her, she suddenly produced a phial of the devil-stick poison and threw it in my face. Of course, I instantly became unconscious, and it was then that she wrenched the talisman off my watch-chain." That night I did so many exercises that at last I sank exhausted in a chair in front of my mirror and put my head down on my arms and cried the real tears you cry when nobody is looking. I felt terribly old and ugly and dowdy and—widowed. It couldn't have been jealousy, for I just love that girl. I want most awfully to hug her very slimness, and it was more what she might think of poor dumpy me than what any man in Hillsboro, or Paris, could possibly feel on the subject, that hurt so hard. But then, looking back on it, I am afraid that jealousy sheds feathers every night so you won't know him in the morning, for something made me sit up suddenly with a spark in my eyes and reach out to the desk for my pencil and cheque-book. It took me more than an hour to reckon it all up, but I went to bed a happier, though in prospects a poorer woman..