She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. They reached Wimbledon, and Ramage whipped out to hand Miss Stanley to the platform as though she had been a duchess, and she descended as though such attentions from middle-aged, but still gallant, merchants were a matter of course. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. . That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. ” “You like me?” “Yes. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Wood required little pressing. It was the bitterest moment of her life. As they entered the room beyond, a fierce growl was heard. I was rude and stupid.
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