Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. " "The Dawn Pearl! Odd, but we white folks aren't half so poetical as the yellow or the black. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. He noted the strong white teeth as they snipped the thread.
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