They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack. ” Michelle looked at her friend in suspicious awe. ” There was silence between them. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story.
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