They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. "And on my part, I shall not lift a hand to defend myself. Then, as he was trying to bite through the rope, I told him, ‘That’s for 107 Traci, motherfucker. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him.
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