She put back her hood in a determined way. She had never had a real doll. F. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. 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. Earles attended her obsequiously to the door.
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