The latch came with a weak click. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. "I love her already. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. 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. Section 1.
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