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The other natives fell back. Niabong, Probyn's wife, set her boy on his feet, put her hand in her bosom and drew out a key, with which she opened the chest. She threw back the lid, fixed her black eyes on Probyn, and waited. Probyn, holding the musket in his left hand, mused a moment. Then he asked: "Whose man is he?" "Mine," said Tahori; "he is from Oaitupu, and my bondman." "Hath he a wife?"
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