But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. "What! you still hesitate! Will that rouse you, coward?" And she gave him a smart rap on the head. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. This she would not endure. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. 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. E.
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