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At Leôncio's estate, there was a large and roughly constructed room, with partially unfinished walls and floors, used by the female slaves that worked on the spinning and weaving of wool and cotton. The furniture in this room consisted of stools, benches, spinning wheels, pressing boards, and a that room, in front of the large baluster adorned windows that faced a vast interior patio, there was a row of spinners. There were about twenty to thirty black, crioula, and mulata women, along with their small children sitting on their lap or on the floor playing around them. Some of them talked, while others hummed songs to pass the long hours of their fastidious work. In that room, one could see faces of all ages, colors, and shapes, from the old black, sulky and haggard, to the round and sensual crioula, from the darkest black to the lightest mulata. Among the former, a girl distinguished herself as the most saucy and elegant that we can imagine. Slender and flexible of body, she had an affable face, full lips that were well shaped, voluptuous and dark as a red daisy that had finished unbuttoning in a morning of April. The black eyes were not very big, but reflected vivacity and charming mischief. The black curly hair could be in the head of the whitest woman from overseas. She kept it short and wavy, as usually worn by men. Instead big loom in the corner. In of taking away her grace, it gave her sassy and mischievous features instantly a unique and enchanting charm. If it were not for the gold earrings, that trembled on her small and round ears, and the round and palpitating breasts that willfully jumped like little kid goats under her thin shirt, you would take her for a lively and rascal teenage boy. We wi... ... middle of paper ... ...ill be back soon." "But there is still one here... oh! It's Isaura... just as well!" he reflected, "The occasion couldn't be more favorable; I'll make one last attempt to seduce that unyielding creature." Then he continued to the foreman, "As soon as they finish eating, take them to the coffee plantation. I had intended to make that recommendation to you before but I've forgotten. I don't want them here one more moment; this is a place of idleness, where they waste time without any benefit but continuous chatter. There is no lack of cotton fabrics that can be bought." As soon as the foreman withdrew, Leôncio moved toward Isaura. "Isaura!" he murmured with a sweet and passionate voice. "Senhor!" the slave answered, raising startled; then she murmured sadly within her soul: "My God! Now the time for my ordeal has arrived."
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