Death belongs to God, young man. ” She smiled at the thought. " "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. They walked side by side for a time.
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