So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. Stanley, “just a moment. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. In short, every contrivance that ingenuity could devise was resorted to by this horde of reprobates to secure themselves from danger or molestation.
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