But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. “Curious case—and sets one thinking. She felt the thrill race through her body. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters.
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