CHAPTER XXIV. \"Word gets round. So while he talked to this girl of work and freedom, his slightly protuberant eyes were noting the gracious balance of her limbs and body across the gate, the fine lines of her chin and neck. "I give you one minute for reflection. 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 distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him. "You're only twenty—not legally of age. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant.
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