But one was clearly the goddess among them, her face hidden, her body seeming to call out to me to possess it at once. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. 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. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa.
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