‘I’m not going to arrest you, young Jack—yet. Only I just want him. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. “And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. ‘She hasn’t said so, but I presume Valade had got hold of all the useful papers,’ Gerald went on. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple. 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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