’ Hilary’s brows shot up. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. “Non. " "Impossible," replied Sheppard, in the same tone. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. 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.
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