Manchurian Books

"Maybe," ventured Horace, "the young lady did settlement work and
read to the woman's kid, and the kid died, and the woman thought
she'd said a charm over it."
Chillingworth grinned affectionately.
"Hold up," he commanded, "or you'll recall the very words of the
charm."
Bennietod gasped and stared.
"Now, Bennietod?" Amory encouraged him.
"I t'ink," said the lad, "if she's a heiress, dis yere
dagger-plunger is her mudder dat's been shut up in a mad-house to a
fare-you-well."
Chillingworth nodded approvingly.
"Your imagination is toning down wonderfully," he flattered him. "A
month ago you would have guessed that the mulatto lady was an
Egyptian princess' messenger sent over here to get the heart from an
American heiress as an ingredient for a complexion lotion. You're
coming on famously, Todd."
"The German poet Wieland," began Benfy, clearing his throat, "has,
in his epic of the _Oberon_ made admirable use of much the same
idea, Mr. Chillingworth--"
Yells interrupted him. Mr.


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