I could not see the expression on her face, yet knew the slender body was trembling nervously.
"Surely you are not afraid ?" "Oh, no; it is not that--I--I am all unstrung.

You must not think of me, at all." This was far easier said than done, however, for she was more in my mind as I crept forward than the indistinct figure below in the boat.
It was becoming a constant struggle already--indeed, had been from the first--to hold her for what I actually knew her to be--negress, a slave, desperately seeking to escape from her master.

The soft, refined voice, the choice use of language, the purity of her thought and expression, the girlish face as I had seen it under the light, all combined to continually blind me to the real truth.

I could not even force myself to act toward her from any standpoint other than that of equality, or regard her as in any way removed from my most courteous consideration.

I think it was equally hard for her to adapt her conduct to these new conditions.