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. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. ‘The major will tell you when to stop. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. Then he could hear Hilary breathing beside him, and from outside the muted twittering of birds. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears.
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