“I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known.
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