Indeed, in a way, the old manor became a sort of apology for the
octoroon girl. The height and the reach of the piazza, exaggerated by
the darkness, suggested a time when retinues of negroes passed through
its dignified colonnades. Those black folk were a part of the place.
They came and went, picked up and used what they could, and that was all
life held for them. They were without wage, without rights, even to the
possession of their own bodies; so by necessity they took what they
could. That was only fifty-odd years ago. Thus, in a way, Peter's
surroundings began a subtle explanation of and apology for Cissie, the
whole racial training of black folk in petty thievery. And that this
should have touched Cissie--the meanness, the pathos of her fate moved
Peter.
The negro was aroused from his reverie by the old Captain's getting out
of his chair and saying, "Very good," and then Peter saw that he had
finished the lamp. The two men rose and carried it into the study, where
Peter pumped and lighted it; a bit later its brilliant white light
flooded the room.
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