“Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. ’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. One peculiarity she did not fail to notice. She glanced into his face. Thunder rumbled behind the manicured hills. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face.
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