The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. Then the inner door opened abruptly. "Call as you please, beloved girl," he cried, "I will not stir till I am answered. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say.
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