In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. Consequences of the Theft X. The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest.
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