Master Sevinson believed himself an intelligent gentleman of affairs. He had cleverly taken out insurance policies on all of his male slaves who were confined to the more simple occupations that the insurance company condoned such as field laborers. He found no need to insure any female or house slaves, for they were generally well behaved and were always within view. A real shame to lose especially young stilt. He was a good worker and always of good humor. Remy was adequate at best, but he never complained n'ary a day long or short, he thought to himself.
No sooner than he lit his pipe, was a tap on the door.
"Master, Mr. Carolinas, the gentleman from the claim company here to see you, sir." Solomon the houseboy announces.
'Well, send him in. Come in much obliged. Come in, Carolinas, have a seat. You a Spaniard?
'Thank you, Mr. Sevinson, we received your request for payment. Shortly after... the incident'. He answers in a pecularly meek voice, ignoring Sevinson's inquiry about his nationality. Doubtless, the question would return in due time...