” The stranger came over to them smiling. He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. . “Is that plain?” she asked.
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