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. ‘She ought to be. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. . .
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