She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. She snatched about in her mind. It is in the lower cupboard. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. " "Wait a bit, massa," replied the grinning negro,—"lilly bit—see all right fust.
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