“Want to see my fangs?” She asked. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. ‘Don’t be silly. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her.
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