His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. ’ ‘I do not need the rescue from such as you. She pulled away from him, placing her fingers on his lips for a moment. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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