“Impossible to say,” he answered. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. " "And what—what was your answer?" demanded the widow, eagerly. 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.
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