It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. . By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait.
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