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Updated: May 2, 2025
Frona glanced up expectantly at the Indian woman. "Um kick toes outside," How-ha explained. "Me tell um go 'way quickety-quick? Eh? You t'ink yes? Um no good. Um " "No. Take her," Frona was thinking quickly, "no; bring her up here." "Much better " "Go!"
Frona saw her to the door herself, and How-ha pondered over the white who made the law and was greater than the law. When the door had closed, Lucile spat into the street. "Faugh! St. Vincent! I have defiled my mouth with your name!" And she spat again. "Come in." At the summons Matt McCarthy pulled the latch-string, pushed the door open, and closed it carefully behind him. "Oh, it is you!" St.
How-ha grunted, and yielded up the obedience she could not withhold; though, as she went down the stairs to the door, in a tenebrous, glimmering way she wondered that the accident of white skin or swart made master or servant as the case might be.
And the woman, placing his hand and pressing it against her heart, said, as a great woman had said before her, "A tent and a crust of bread with you, Richard." How-ha was only an Indian woman, bred of a long line of fish-eating, meat-rending carnivores, and her ethics were as crude and simple as her blood.
The strange woman spoke in firm, even tones which betokened the will behind, but which failed to move How-ha. "Much better you go," she repeated, stolidly. "Here, take this to Frona Welse, and ah! would you!" How-ha scowled, but took the note; for she could not shake off the grip of the ten years of servitude to the superior race. May I see you? So the note ran.
Unerringly from the stores of the past she picked and chose and put together in the instant present, till obscurity dropped from the woman before her, and she knew her, word and deed and look and history. "Much better you go 'way quickety-quick," How-ha informed her. "Miss Welse. I wish to see her."
But How-ha's faculties of observing and remembering details had been developed in a hard school where death dealt his blow to the lax and life saluted the vigilant. How-ha looked up and down the woman who stood before her.
Through the heavy veil she could barely distinguish the flash of the eyes, while the hood of the parka effectually concealed the hair, and the parka proper the particular outlines of the body. But How-ha paused and looked again. There was something familiar in the vague general outline. She quested back to the shrouded head again, and knew the unmistakable poise.
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