"You speak English better than I do," said O'Higgins, as the coolies jogged across the bridge toward the gate. He was in a position to help her. None saw, though all felt, his presence, and heard the thunder of his voice. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. I didn’t know. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him.
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