He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. ’ She drew a heavy breath. I'm entirely at your service. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him.
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