But from the rest—you saved me. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. By chance I went to one who had known you in Paris. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots.
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