She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. "Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. "My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
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