A woman who was hatched from an egg and whose span of life might cover a thousand years whose people had strange customs and ideas. A woman whose hopes whose pleasures whose standards of virtue and of right and wrong might vary as greatly from mine as did those of the green Martians.
To me Dejah Thoris was all that was perfect all that was virtuous and beautiful and noble and good. I believed that from the bottom of my heart from the depth of my soul. On that night in Korad as I sat cross-legged upon my silks while the nearer moon of Barsoom raced through the western sky.
A woman who was hatched from an egg and whose span of life might cover a thousand years whose people had strange customs and ideas a woman whose hopes. Whose pleasures whose standards of virtue and of right and wrong might vary as greatly from mine as did those of the green Martians. To me Dejah Thoris was all that was perfect all that was virtuous and beautiful and noble and good.
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At one time she would come on board with a jar of pickles for the steward’s pantry. Another time with a bunch of quills for the chief mate’s desk, where he kept his log a third time with a roll of flannel.
But it was startling to see this excellent hearted Quakeress coming on board, as she did the last day, with a long oil-ladle in one hand.
Chief among those who did this fetching and carrying was Captain Bildad’s sister. A lean old lady of a most determined spirit, but withal very kindhearted who seemed resolved that.
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