They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. I’d need to be out of my senses. But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility.
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