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. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal. “Absolutely platonically,” she said. ‘But I’ve known that for years. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. It had ever been her policy, much to Melusine’s relief, for she was apt to complain that it only made her mad and there was nothing she could do about it.
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