She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. "Oh! Jack! Jack!—you little know what a price I've paid for you!" "Well, I'm glad those women are gone," remarked Shotbolt. " "Oh! of course," rejoined Mrs. . “I do not suppose he will be home till late. "Look quick, d—n you, or we shall never master him!" "Murder!" shrieked Mrs.
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