“You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ‘Yes, that is reasonable. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. ’ ‘But, sister, I—’ ‘Get along!’ Melusine gave Jack a smile as he cast a worried look at her, and nodded dismissal. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. They were so good to me. C.
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