She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. ” He threw the stone protecting the crypt to one side. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him.
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