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"Ah, but how about Doris?" questioned Elinor sadly. "Isn't she to be remembered?" "My mother is weak where Dido is concerned," said Isabella, shaking her head. "I, massa! Ole Dido she do nuffin. Massa Maurice he die Voodoo! Oh, yes.".
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Across the lawn there crept a wizen, gray-haired little man, with a cringing manner. He was white, but darkish in the skin, and there was something negroid about his face. This dwarfish little creature was a tramp, who had become a pensioner of Isabella's. He had attached himself to her like some faithful dog, and rarely failed to present himself at least once a day. "Did he apologize for his use of it before or after the explanation?" was Jen's final question. "Molly," he said, when enough tenderness had come back into his arms to let me breathe, "you have almost killed me!" "I think I'll wait till they're all in," she replied softly. "It will be better for us all to be able to say truthfully that we had no idea of what the others were like till after ours were in. Don't you think so?".
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