During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. Probably hadn't. ‘You’re right. And it's uncanny. 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. "Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole.
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