His food lay untouched about his plate. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing. 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. In truth, she liked Gerald also. I am the cause of his ill-usage.
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