" "Iss, missis," grinned the black. “Mr. Taking the wind was her business in life. His arms were naturally big and his chest was covered with a smattering of soft hairs. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. Sometimes I try to talk. Her hair and voice and figure are as yours used to be. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. After the dance, they went to a party. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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