"I don't quite understand the application. It’s just upon my lunch-time. She's not for pleasure, but for work. Capes smiled cheerfully with his eyes meeting hers. You say I know nothing. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say.
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