“The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. ’ Then he bowed, raising his hat in salute and, crossing to the coach, spoke briefly to its driver and leapt into it without looking back. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. I made it a point to bring beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind.
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