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Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions.
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