You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. “Rubbish!” he answered.
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