There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. 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. What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. To-morrow I am going to Paris. That is easy. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry.
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