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. If you forget your sex, jade, I must forget mine. He did not speak for a moment. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped.
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