Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. " "No more of this," rejoined Thames, "or we shall quarrel. ‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. There was a very substantial profit in the transaction, for he paid the natives in commodities—coloured cotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, household utensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. He gripped one of her pert nipples with his fingers as he came inside her. It was the last thing she felt like drinking.
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