But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. " "Your husband?" "No. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. But the figure was evidently too intent on peering within the ballroom to pay any attention to what might be occurring outside. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. He kissed her at the door. “I want to know who you are.
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