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Updated: June 2, 2025
I may be a high-minded sufferer, but I'm a very fair liar as well. I'll put it right for you." He entered Mr. Diggle's room. Mr. Diggle, seated with his back to him, continued the letter he was writing. "Look here," said Sharper impulsively, "what have you been and done with that partnership of mine?" "That you, Sharper? Sit down. I shall be a minute or two. I said, sit down.
Desmond had no doubt that this was Diggle's boy Scipio Africanus. And when he mentioned the connection between the two, it was supposed that the negro had acted as go-between for his master with the friends in the town by whose aid the escape had been arranged.
"Oh, you're the black boy, Mr. Diggle's servant. Is your master in?" "No, massa." "Well, come down and open the door. I'll wait for him." "Massa said no open door for nuffin." "Confound you, open at once! He knows me; I'm a friend of his; open the door!" "Massa said no open door for nobody." The farmer pleaded, stormed, cursed, but Scipio Africanus was inflexible.
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