And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle.
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