Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. " "I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a smile. There was a very substantial profit in the transaction, for he paid the natives in commodities—coloured cotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, household utensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. And as a natural consequence, they don’t do so well, and they don’t get on—and so the world doesn’t pay them. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle.
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