"I've a good mind not to speak to you again, Sir!" cried Winifred, with difficulty repressing a tear of vexation; "you've acted unfairly. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. The thing is done. ‘How is your plan now, mon brave?’ Melusine taunted. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. The next weekend arrived and she made her decision.
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