Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. 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.
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