My sun has sent me an acceptable present." "What is your will that we should do with them ?" the chief asked in a deeply deferential tone.
Tu-Kila-Kila looked hard at Muriel--such a hateful look that the knife trembled irresolute for a second in Felix's hand.

"Give them two fresh huts," he said, in a lordly way.

"Give them divine platters.

Give them all that they need.

Make everything right for them." The chief bowed, and retired with an awed air from the presence.