“I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me again. ” For a moment Mr. I didn't understand then, but I do now. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. All this while he was arranging the medicines on the stand and jotting down his instructions on a chart sheet. " "Wait a bit, massa," replied the grinning negro,—"lilly bit—see all right fust.
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