Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. " "I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. The children made us slaves, and the men took advantage of it.
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