But even you cannot alter her character. Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. Here was one that subtly mocked her. "I could," replied Thames.
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