Did you ever get into trouble while you were at the ’underground station?’ I asked.

Yes I did. I got into bitter trouble, and went through dreadful sufferings. In fact, what happened to me changed the whole course of my life and was the cause of my being what I am now. Oh, how I hate the Southerners! The cruel wretches! she exclaimed fiercely, her eyes flashing, her bosom heaving and her cheeks reddening.

I was surprised at her sudden outburst of anger, and it at once struck me that the little woman had a story. I was curious to hear it, so I said: I should very much like to hear what happened to you in the South. Will you tell me?

After a moment’s hesitation, she replied: I have never told my story to a man yet; but I will tell it to you, as you are an Englishman and I think you have a sympathetic nature. The story is a very long one, and there is not time to tell it to you now, but if you will come here tonight at seven o’clock and dine quietly with me, I will give you a full account of my life.

I replied that I should be delighted to dine with her and that it would give me great pleasure to hear her story.

Just then there was a knock at the door and the quadroon woman, neatly dressed and wearing a smart cap on her head, came into the room with tea and buttered toast on a tray, which she placed on a table beside the bed.

My companion sat up, saying to the quadroon: Mary, give me my wrapper.

The woman handed her mistress the garment, which she threw over her shoulders. Then turning to me, Dolly said with a smile: Mary was a slave for twenty-five years, and if you’d like to ask her any questions about her life she will answer you truthfully. She is not shy. Are you, Mary?

The quadroon, who was a very buxom, rather good-looking woman, smiled broadly, showing a double row of white teeth between her full, red lips. No, Miss Dolly, she replied, I isn’t shy.