"But you've given me what I don't possess. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. "Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James.
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