Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. Suddenly she had become afraid. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. The spinsters were not kind; they were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years out of date. 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 father was one of my old customers, and I am happy to find his son treading in his steps. Kevin Chen, Martin’s father, was equally stately, his dark brown eyes bright with the fire of extreme intelligence.
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