" Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. I deal with the Malay mostly; but twice a year I visit islands occupied by the true blacks, recently cured of their ancient taste for long-pig. ‘Dead then, is he?’ ‘If I could say that he is dead, it would give me very much satisfaction.
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