How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. A broken laugh followed the action. 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. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. It was red and chapped.
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