“This is Mr. The chamber rang with her shrieks. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans.
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