The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Not much to his surprise, Jack Kimble shook his head. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. It’s like this: You want freedom. Never be downhearted. You are much more like what I was then.
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