She went straight into the living-room and opened the drawer of the sideboard
where she knew her father kept a box of cigars. She took one out and carried it up to her bedroom and shut herself in.
Now for the practice, she told herself. It's going to be tough but I'm determined to do it.
Her plan for helping Miss Honey was beginning to form beautifully in her mind.
She had it now in almost every detail, but in the end it all depended upon her being able to do one very special thing with her eye-power.
She knew she wouldn't manage it right away, but she felt fairly confident that with a great deal of practice and effort,
she would succeed in the end. The cigar was essential. It was perhaps a bit thicker than she would have liked, but the weight was about right.
It would be fine for practising with. There was a small dressing-table in Matilda's bedroom with her hairbrush and comb on it and two library books.
She cleared these things to one side and laid the cigar down in the middle of the dressing-table.
Then she walked away and sat on the end of her bed. She was now about ten feet from the cigar.
She settled herself and began to concentrate, and very quickly this time she felt the electricity beginning to flow inside her head,
gathering itself behind the eyes, and the eyes became hot and millions of tiny invisible hands began pushing out like sparks towards the cigar.
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