"Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. . " "You astonish me," said the stranger, in a voice full of emotion.
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