But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart.
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