‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. Just then—I was nervous. Perhaps she was. “You are absurd,” she declared. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. ’ ‘But the general gave his permission. He came into the club next day, and of course we went for him thick. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet.
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