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It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. CHAPTER XIII. She laughed. ” She said. ‘Seems to me like you know just about as much as me. E. "The danger's past," whispered Bess. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd. "You've given him a broken head, I perceive.
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