" CHAPTER VI. “Oh, Lucy. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. ” “Relaxation, perhaps. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her.
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