“Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. He is coming here to tea. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. Profoundly. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate.
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