A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked.
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