He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. It is the same man, for he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. , like to forget all about it—even their names. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. “For better or worse. No; she'd never go back. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. .
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