At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. 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. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. Voilà tout. ‘Come, cry a truce. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. ” Lucy replied. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. They are tending to congregate, our poor French friends. She led him up the long hall solemnly.
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