Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage looking into the crowded room. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly. Dump popped his head into the cage. Brown or Jones, I dare say.
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