E. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. Stanley. Hartford had a very respectable sound. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility.
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