He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. Suddenly, such a shout as has seldom smitten human ears rent the air. But next moment, Captain Roding put up her back. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. 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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