And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. 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. ” She grinned. ” Anna glanced towards her sister, but the latter avoided her eyes. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. ” Mr. “I’ll never be happy again! I hate you! But most of all, what you have made me! A flesh-eating demon cannibal, just like you! I should be dead, dead and lying at the bottom of the sea. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers.
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