One could enter and leave by proa, but nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. "Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that. Fly! they shall knock me on the head—curse 'em!—before they shall touch you. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there.
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