What had Brewis Charvill to say to that, Gerald?’ ‘He had nothing to say to it. "Speak, or I fire!" "Well, if you will have it, it's Sir Rowland Trenchard. Listen to me, Thames. . Wood's house was broken into and plundered. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. Jack was lying so still, for a moment she panicked. "What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently.
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