Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. It's plain he don't understand our lingo; as, how should he? Take pattern by me;" and as he said this he strode up to the carpenter, and, slapping him on the shoulder, propounded the following questions, accompanying each interrogation with a formidable contortion of countenance. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor commiseration.
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