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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Do you mean seriously to tell me that you consider me a creature of darkness?" "I spoke in general," remonstrated d'Alcacer. "Anything else would have been an impertinence. Yes, obscurity is women's best friend. Their daring loves it; but a sudden flash of light disconcerts them. Generally speaking, if they don't get exactly at the truth they always manage to come pretty near to it." Mrs.
Travers outside the door of the Cage. He started forward but she was already within. He saw she was moved. She seemed out of breath and as if unable to speak at first. "Hadn't we better shut the door?" suggested d'Alcacer. "Captain Lingard's coming in," she whispered to him. "He has made up his mind." "That's an excellent thing," commented d'Alcacer, quietly.
"I don't know what illness is," answered the voice from the pillow to the great relief of d'Alcacer who really had not expected an answer. "Good health is a great asset in public life. Illness may make you miss a unique opportunity. I was never ill." All this came out deadened in tone, as if the speaker's face had been buried in the pillow. D'Alcacer resumed his pacing.
Travers with myself walking on each side of the stretcher. Mrs. Travers has declared to me her intention to go out with us." "Oh, she has declared her intention," murmured Lingard, absent-mindedly. D'Alcacer felt himself completely abandoned by that man.
Only a moment before he had appeared plunged in the deepest slumber, and the stillness for a long time now had been perfectly unbroken. D'Alcacer was startled enough for an exclamation and Mr. Travers turned his head slowly in his direction. D'Alcacer approached the bedstead with a certain reluctance. "Awake?" he said. "A sudden chill," said Mr. Travers. "But I don't feel cold now. Strange!
"Some words," he answered; "I should think any words in your voice " "Mr. d'Alcacer!" "Or you could perhaps look at him once or twice as though he were not exactly a robber," he continued. "Mr. d'Alcacer, are you afraid?" "Extremely," he said, stooping to pick up the fan at her feet. "That is the reason I am so anxious to conciliate.
On the other side of the deck, a lady, in a long chair, had a passive attitude that to Mr. d'Alcacer, standing near her, seemed characteristic of the manner in which she accepted the necessities of existence. Years before, as an attache of his Embassy in London, he had found her an interesting hostess. She was even more interesting now, since a chance meeting and Mr.
But down on the ground outside, the black shape of a man seated on a bench had an intense relief. Another intensely black shadow threw a handful of brushwood on the fire and went away. The man on the bench got up. It was d'Alcacer. He let Lingard and Mrs. Travers come quite close up to him. Extreme surprise seemed to have made him dumb. "You didn't expect . . ." began Mrs.
If the war canoe transporting them into the lagoon had left the sands shortly after Hassim's retreat from Daman's camp, Travers and d'Alcacer were by this time far away up the creek. Every thought of action had become odious to Lingard since all he could do in the world now was to hasten the moment of his separation from that woman to whom he had confessed the whole secret of his life.
And as to the present moment I beg you not to go away. Stay by me please. We are not going to pretend that we are sleepy at this early hour." D'Alcacer brought a stool close to the long chair and sat down on it. "Oh, yes, the possible hour of fate," he said. "I have a request to make, Mrs. Travers. I don't ask you to betray anything. What would be the good?
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