The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound. Sebastian rose from the tomb. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw.
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