“You too sing?” he asked. " "I'll forgive you all the harm you do me," rejoined the Amazon. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit.
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