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. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. "That I can't say.
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