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Sheppard. ” “A sort of history,” said Mr. ’ He grinned. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. Hollo rumbled in his throat.
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