” He paused for a moment, and then suddenly continued. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle. Sheppard, shuddering violently. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. " "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars.
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