’ Melusine began to sag, and felt his strong arms catch her up and lift her bodily into a comforting embrace. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. "Ah!" he exclaimed, in a tone of anguish. Await me in the coach. This is retribution. 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. She sighed with relief. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting.
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