I cannot work, I cannot teach. 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 is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously.
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