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. “No, I’d like to. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. C.
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