She was Anglo-Saxon.

She was what her ancestresses had been for generations.
The strain was unchanged, and had become so tense and narrow that it was almost fathomless.

Mrs.Sturtevant, good and benevolent on her chalk-line, was involuntarily a bigot.

She looked at Chinese laundry men, poor little yellow figures, shuffling about with bags of soiled linen, with thrills of recoil.

She would not have acknowledged it to herself, for she came of a race which favoured abolition, but nothing could have induced her to have a coloured girl in her kitchen.