” The conversation hung for a moment. Wood at Dollis Hill, was assaulted and half-killed by a party of ruffians, headed, he swore, by Mr. ‘Rather would I die than fall in with such a plan. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. “Well, because I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t.
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