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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa"

Though everyone say they
know, Jeekie not quite sure. May be all light and crowns of glory, may
be damp black hole and no way out. But this at least true, that I love
you better, yes, better than Miss Barbara, for love of woman very poor,
uncertain thing, quick come, quick go. Jeekie find that out--often. Yes,
if need be, though death most nasty, if need be I say I die for you,
which great unpleasant sacrifice," and Jeekie in the genuine enthusiasm
of his warm heart, throwing himself upon his knees after the African
fashion, seized his master's hand and kissed it.
"Thanks, Jeekie," said Alan, "very kind of you, I am sure. But we
haven't come to that yet, though no one knows what may happen later on.
Now sit upon that chair and take a little whisky--not too much--for I am
going to ask your advice."
"Major," said Jeekie, "I obey," and seizing the whisky bottle in a
casual manner, he poured out half a tumbler full, for Jeekie was fond of
whisky. Indeed before now this taste had brought him into conflict with
the local magistrates.
"Put back three parts of that," said Alan, and Jeekie did so. "Now," he
went on, "listen: this is the case, Miss Barbara and I are----" and he
hesitated.


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