She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ” Annabel laughed gaily. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. By this action, Lucy already knew what the answer was.
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