She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. " "That's well. Drummond patted him on the shoulder. ’ Gerald eyed her with interest.
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