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Schemmer would never have cause to complain. It was a hot day. There had been a stoppage of the trades. The mules sweated, Cruchot sweated, and Ah Cho sweated. But it was Ah Cho that bore the heat with the least concern. He had toiled three years under that sun on the plantation. He beamed and beamed with such genial good nature that even Cruchot's heavy mind was stirred to wonderment.
Emmy sat on the fender stool, as she had done when Septimus had told her the story, and repeated it for Zora's benefit. "You say he sent for Septimus this morning?" said Zora in a low voice. "Do you think he knows about you two?" "It is possible that he guesses," replied Emmy, to whom Hégisippe Cruchot's indiscretion had been reported. "Septimus has not told him."
"Thank you, monsieur l'abbe, but I have my son," she answered dryly. "Ladies cannot compromise themselves with me," said the abbe. "Take Monsieur Cruchot's arm," said her husband. The abbe walked off with the pretty lady so quickly that they were soon some distance in advance of the caravan. "That is a good-looking young man, madame," he said, pressing her arm.
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