That night she found a ship bound to sail for the heathen nation called America. “It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. I tell you—never mind the bill. She ran 60 past it with melancholic dread towards the slope that led to the ocean. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded.
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