‘You didn’t understand it any better than I. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. “He has said something of the sort. "My worst fears are realized. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. 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. "My invitation did not extend to them. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed.
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