Having found a passage of which he was apparently in
search, he requested me to join him in the corner; still mysteriously
confidential, and still speaking under his breath.
"In respect to this hocus-pocus of yours, sir, with the laudanum and Mr.
Franklin Blake," he began. "While the workpeople are in the house, my
duty as a servant gets the better of my feelings as a man. When the
workpeople are gone, my feelings as a man get the better of my duty as a
servant. Very good. Last night, Mr. Jennings, it was borne in powerfully
on my mind that this new medical enterprise of yours would end badly.
If I had yielded to that secret Dictate, I should have put all the
furniture away again with my own hand, and have warned the workmen off
the premises when they came the next morning."
"I am glad to find, from what I have seen up-stairs," I said, "that you
resisted the secret Dictate."
"Resisted isn't the word," answered Betteredge. "Wrostled is the word. I
wrostled, sir, between the silent orders in my bosom pulling me one way,
and the written orders in my pocket-book pushing me the other,
until (saving your presence) I was in a cold sweat.
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