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

"A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa"

Think we all private here now, though in Gold
House never can be sure," and he looked round him suspiciously, adding,
"rummy place, Gold House, full of all sort of holes made by old fellows
thousand year ago, which no one know but Bonsa priests. Still, best risk
it and take off your face so that you have decent wash," and he began to
unlace the mask on his master's head.
Never has a City clerk dressed up for a fancy ball in the armour of a
Norman knight, been more glad to get rid of his costume than was Alan of
that hateful head-dress. At length it was gone with his other garments
and the much-needed wash accomplished, after which he clothed himself in
a kind of linen gown which apparently had been provided for him, and lay
down on one of the couches, placing his revolver by his side.
"Will those lamps burn all night, Jeekie?" he asked.
"Hope so, Major, as we haven't got no match. Not fond of dark in Gold
House," answered Jeekie sleepily. Then he began to snore.
Alan fell asleep, but was too excited and tired to rest very soundly.
All sorts of dreams came to him, one of which he remembered on
awakening, perhaps because it was the last.


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