" "The Dawn Pearl! Odd, but we white folks aren't half so poetical as the yellow or the black. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. She was alone with a deadly enemy. ” She said. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. I had been about as foolish and selfish as a girl could be.
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