‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. Men fled from their tottering habitations, and returned to them scared by greater dangers. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout.
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