“Now I’ll have what I want from you, wife. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. Having secured this,—for he was almost famished,—he said that he had lost a hammer and wished to purchase one. It was locked. Lucy arranged her hair as Michelle had taught her instead of combing it out.
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