He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. Wasn't the river beautiful under the moonlight?" "We did not leave our cabins. No other white people within twenty miles. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table.
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