“Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place. ‘Aye, sir. ‘And if you like, I will tell you why.
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