Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. Framed in one of the square ports of the packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical mask. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. And not a worthy tome in sight.
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