Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. He was like a man beside himself. "Tell me, what did they call you?" "Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the natives called me the Dawn Pearl. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. She told us that it was a disguise. ” He stood up to go on to the next student.
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