However fascinating she might be, she could not be worthy any serious consideration.

In spite of his rough life the social spirit of the old South was implanted in his blood, and no woman of that class could hold him captive.

Yet, some way, she refused to be banished or left behind.
Even Neb must have been obsessed by a similar spirit, for he suddenly observed: "Dat am sutt'nly a mighty fine gal, Massa Jack.

I ain't seen nothin' to compare wid her since I quit ol' Virginia--'deed I ain't." Keith glanced back at his black satellite, barely able to distinguish the fellow's dim outlines.
"You think her a lady, then ?" he questioned, giving thoughtless utterance to his own imagination.
"'Deed I does!" the thick voice somewhat indignant.

"I reck'n I knows de real quality when I sees it.