" "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. I can’t love you. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. “Why?” he asked, suavely. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. “I will not have this slavery,” she said. But she made no answer. The Becks as a 187 family didn’t talk or ruminate over Mike’s or Lucy’s past much. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room.
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