“Well,” she said. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave. Did you not hear the shot?’ ‘I ain’t saying as I didn’t hear no shot,’ Trodger said carefully, peering at her out of eyes narrowed with interest, ‘but what I do say is, it’s mighty peculiar you saying as how there’s a Frenchman in the case, when it’s as plain as the nose on your face that you’re a Frenchwoman yourself.
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