But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. 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. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. The next instant, he was launched into eternity! Scarcely had he been turned off a moment, when a man with swarthy features leapt into the cart with an open clasp-knife in his hand, and, before he could be prevented, severed the rope, and cut down the body. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. I wouldn't accept my life from him.
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