People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. ‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away.
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