‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. What matters it? My servant, he is wounded—and by a Frenchman, if you wish to make an arrest. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. “It’s very good,” she said. I don't believe he is much past forty.
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