Somehow to-night—I don’t know. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. 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. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can.
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