But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying. “I don’t take any prisoners, John! You do not want this life!” “Yes I do! I am an adult. Wild," cried Jack, placing his hat on the right arm of the guide-post, and leaning over the board, "I've done the trick myself.
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