I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. , and get some other man to live on as soon as possible. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security. " "I'm sure I'm very sorry. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. "My friend here," said McClintock, "tells me you are looking for a job. Such was the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts.
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