He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. No girl with a face like that…. Several people in the crowd seemed to be fighting. That’s my advice to you. They mean something. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got. The screams of the unfortunate woman had aroused Thames from his slumbers. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance.
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