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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"

I say on the whole,
for personally I went through a most horrible nightmare of being buried
alive, induced, no doubt, by the sepulchral nature of my surroundings.
At dawn we were aroused by a loud trumpeting sound, produced, as we
afterwards discovered, by a young Amahagger blowing through a hole
bored in its side into a hollowed elephant tusk, which was kept for the
purpose.
Taking the hint, we got up and went down to the stream to wash, after
which the morning meal was served. At breakfast one of the women, no
longer quite young, advanced and publicly kissed Job. I think it was in
its way the most delightful thing (putting its impropriety aside for
a moment) that I ever saw. Never shall I forget the respectable Job's
abject terror and disgust. Job, like myself, is a bit of a misogynist--I
fancy chiefly owing to the fact of his having been one of a family
of seventeen--and the feelings expressed upon his countenance when
he realised that he was not only being embraced publicly, and without
authorisation on his own part, but also in the presence of his masters,
were too mixed and painful to admit of accurate description.


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