"Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone. It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. 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. His spirits began to rise. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively.
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