At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit.
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