No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. Drummond patted him on the shoulder. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave. “They would spoil every chance.
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