“Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. The guineas are not for serving your mistress. Even our coarseness. " "The Dawn Pearl! Odd, but we white folks aren't half so poetical as the yellow or the black.
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