Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. ‘Not at all ladylike. The Storm VII. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. . 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. Men are against her. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. It keeps dangling in front of my eyes.
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