They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. ” He was obviously puzzled. He did his best not to grin. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Capes bore a face of infinite perplexity.
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