” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. Springing upon the box, he told the coachman to make the best of his way to Saint Giles's. 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. “Do you mind very much?” He shook his head. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. "Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-boy, "don't go home.
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