Wood. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand.
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