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She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. ‘Parbleu, the house, is it broken in the least? I do not think so. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig.

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