The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. "O Massa Ireton! Massa Wild!" ejaculated Caliban, "Shack Sheppart gone!" "Gone? you black devil!—Gone?" cried Ireton. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing.
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