She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. The Wastrel did not relish this. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. ” Part 11 They sat for a time without speaking a word, in an enormous shining globe of mutual satisfaction. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance.
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