“Believe what, Michelle?” Lucy asked. "Pick up that blade, Nab," vociferated Wild, finding himself hotly pressed, "and stab him. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. The pistol was lowered slightly. One day it was gone. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge.
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