[The Ivory Child by H. Rider Haggard]@TWC D-Link book
The Ivory Child

CHAPTER III
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In a second it was gone and she was laughing again; but I, who am accustomed to observe, had caught it, perhaps alone of all that company.

Moreover, it reminded me of something.
What was it?
Ah! I knew.

A look that sometimes I had seen upon the face of a certain Zulu lady named Mameena, especially at the moment of her wonderful and tragic death.

The thought made me shiver a little; I could not tell why, for certainly, I reflected, this high-placed and fortunate English girl had nothing in common with that fate-driven Child of Storm, whose dark and imperial spirit dwelt in the woman called Mameena.

They were as far apart as Zululand is from Essex.


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