You stand on dead men's legs.

You've never had any of your own.

You couldn't walk alone between two sunrises and hustle the meat for your belly for three meals.
Let me see your hand." His tremendous, dormant strength must have stirred, swiftly and accurately, or I must have slept a moment, for before I knew it he had stepped two paces forward, gripped my right hand in his, and held it up for inspection.

I tried to withdraw it, but his fingers tightened, without visible effort, till I thought mine would be crushed.

It is hard to maintain one's dignity under such circumstances.