She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. "She has fallen into the villain's hands.
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