‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. 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. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension.
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