They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone. We are amiable to one another, but we don’t mix. "And now, Sir," he said, preparing to take his departure, "will you add to the obligation already conferred by informing me where I can meet with Mr.
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