Spurlock stepped into the room. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. You wore a blue dress with your hair unbound, and never had I seen a maid so glorious with eyes so blue or a smile so bright. But it is all very different.
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