’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. As to the picture, I'll keep it myself, though, if you do go I shall need no memorial of you. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Then the long lashes sank demurely over them. From then on he was Ruth's dog.
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