The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. She lied. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. I have two Malay clerks in the store; but I'm obliged to have a white man to watch over them, or they'd clean me out. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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