They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up. “I can see you and Anna groaning and nodding your grave heads together. We aren't between him and heaven; he is between us and heaven. ’ ‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Gerald snapped irritably. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us.
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