” She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. “Happened! Oh, many things,” she declared indolently. I’d come back from the ends of the earth. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. When she was done she checked the patio door and carried his body into the garage, burying his remains next to the ten year old girl he had raped and killed last autumn, whose bones were starting to show in small areas where the maggots had feasted. " "Can you make me honest?" cried Jack. But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship.
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