” “Perhaps you don’t. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. She had refused to eat human beings when she had first learned her fate. “And somehow or other,” she added, after a long interval, “I must pay Mr. Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp. He, therefore, desires to interrogate him. . The clock struck half-past ten.
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