" "He's coming!" cried Jack, stamping his foot, with vexation. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. "A thousand dollars in British pounds!… A thousand dollars for four short stories!" The tan on Spurlock's face lightened. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ’ She grimaced. She found herself talking to Capes in an undertone of rational admission. “Want to see my fangs?” She asked.
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