An uncomfortable silence followed. Threw it out. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. "Dear me!" she added, as she pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths.
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