He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. “I’ve gotta go. .
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