He spoke in quick nervous sentences. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more. I don’t care WHAT happens. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. ” He stuttered. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that.
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