But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. "Hold hard," cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift.
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