His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. ’ ‘Yes, that rather leapt to the eye,’ Gerald said, and the faint smile sent a lick of warmth down inside her. "I advise you against this trip, Mr. 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.
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