\"Hey, you dudes!\" The word dude coming from Michelle's mouth suited her just about as well as the word \"gnarly\" suited Winston Churchill. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk of being called mad. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline.
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