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He turned to her, infinitely reverent, infinitely tender. "Will yo' staay with 'im? Or will yo' coom with mae?" "I'll come with you." With one shoulder turned to her father, she cowered to her lover's breast. "Ay, an' yo' need n' be afraaid I'll not bae sober. I'll bae sober enoof now. D'ye 'ear, Mr. Cartaret? Yo' need n' bae afraaid, either. I'll kape sober.
A gray light slid through the half-shut door and through the long, narrow slits in the walls. From the open floor of the loft there came the sweet, heavy scent of hay. "He'll see the door open. He'll come in. He'll find us here." "He wawn't." But Jim shut the door. "We're saafe enoof. But 'tis naw plaace for yo. Yo'll mook yore lil feet. Staay there where yo are tell I tall yo."
Lawd! my time is come I cayn't git up; my bones dun tuk dis-yeh shape to staay!" "Come, come!" said the husband, in an undertone of amiable chiding; and the buggy gave a jerk of thankful relief as its principal burden left it for the sidewalk, diffusing the sweet smell of the ironing-table. While the younger woman was making her mincing descent, Fanny and Barbara came toward them in the walk.
"I s'all not goa and see him, Mr. Cartaret." She was very quiet. "Very good. Then I shall pay you a month's wages and you will go on Saturday." It was then that her mouth trembled so that her eyes shone large through her tears. "I wasn't gawn to staay, sir to be a trooble. I sud a gien yo' nawtice in anoother moonth." She paused.
March flung himself away, but Shotwell turned him again by a supplicating call and manly, repentant air. "Law, John, don't mind my plaay, old man; I'm just about as sick as you ah. Here! I'll tell you where she is, an' then I'll tell you what let's do! You go hunt Jeff-Jack an' I'll staay with heh till you fetch him!" "That would be nice," cheerfully laughed John.
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