Today's Stichomancy for P Diddy

the story of Joe the injured brakeman must be false. If he had an eighty-five-dollar watch he could borrow forty on it. Why should his "friend" have sold it outright for twenty-five? The fakery of it was plain to any one who stopped to think. Who then would be fool enough to pay twenty-five dollars for a fake watch at a side auction? Not I. I was too wise. "How easy it is," I said to myself, "to solve a skin game."

The next day I happened to pass the place again and they were selling the same watch. I listened for the second time to the sad story of Joe the brakeman. He was still in the hospital and still willing to sacrifice his eighty-five-dollar gold watch to the

great court or quadrangle of the timber-merchant's house, divided from the shady lane by an ivy-covered wall, was entered by two white gates, one standing near each extremity of the wall. It so happened that at the moment when Fitzpiers was riding out at the lower gate on his way to the Manor House, Melbury was approaching the upper gate to enter it. Fitzpiers being in front of Melbury was seen by the latter, but the surgeon, never turning his head, did not observe his father-in-law, ambling slowly and silently along under the trees, though his horse too was a gray one.

"How is Grace?" said his wife, as soon as he entered.

Melbury looked gloomy. "She is not at all well," he said. "I

The Woodlanders

discoveries were incomplete. Enough then, that I not only recognised my natural body from the mere aura and effulgence of certain of the powers that made up my spirit, but managed to compound a drug by which these powers should be dethroned from their supremacy, and a second form and countenance substituted, none the less natural to me because they were the expression, and bore the stamp of lower elements in my soul.

I hesitated long before I put this theory to the test of practice. I knew well that I risked death; for any drug that so potently controlled and shook the very fortress of identity, might, by the least scruple of an overdose or at the least

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

and when I tell you that La Zambinella will be there--'

" 'Zambinella!' cried Sarrasine, thrown into delirium by that name; 'I am mad with love of her.'

" 'You are like everybody else,' replied his comrade.

" 'But if you are friends of mine, you and Vien and Lauterbourg and Allegrain, you will lend me your assistance for a /coup de main/, after the entertainment, will you not?' asked Sarrasine.

" 'There's no cardinal to be killed? no--?'

" 'No, no!' said Sarrasine, 'I ask nothing of you that men of honor may not do.'

"In a few moments the sculptor laid all his plans to assure the