He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. Wood is now in very affluent circumstances. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness.
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