CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. He carried a small bag. 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. To perdition with them all. ” “But I’m quite equal to taking care of myself, aunt. " "That I'll engage not to do.
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