“You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. "Where is he?" he cried. Where is this undistinguished husband?’ Leaping to his feet he seized his sword hilt and partly withdrew it from its sheath, saying dramatically, ‘I shall kill him immediately!’ Her eyes widened, but she did not move. 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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