He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. Lucy's ears were singing. “What can one do?” asked Ann Veronica.
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