But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. In a flash, Melusine had jumped forward and clamped it to the floor with one booted foot. "Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock.
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