He had heard everything. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. “I go to private school right now. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis.
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