His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. 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. He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. I MUST pay off that forty pounds.
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