“It was poison—why not?” she answered. Everybody looked askance at everybody else. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things. You won't often see white folks. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. “Do you like my dress?” “Yes, the dress is beautiful, but you are much more beautiful than any dress. "That's all right.
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