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. ‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. ” Ann Veronica could have wept with vexation. ’ Tears sprang to Melusine’s own eyes, and she clasped the hand she held more tightly.
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