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Polonsky's toilet-table was covered with gold boxes and bottles and brushes; scents and powders and pastes. If he moved out, Gaby de Lys might have moved in and lacked nothing. He was a boulevardier, his clothes from Paris, conforming not at all to the sartorial customs of Tahiti, and his varnished boots and alpine hat, with his saffron automobile, marked him as a person.
"She is one of those who will want to suck a man's soul out till he has none of his own left," she said to herself; "and he is just such a gaby as to let himself be absorbed. She will never let him become a man; she never will." So, while he was away with Miriam, Mrs. Morel grew more and more worked up.
Also, there was a halo about her head since sick people needed their mothers, gods, and saints. "Poor, Gaby, time has run by like a shell shocked soldier, and she's accomplished nothing in her life but a bit of whoredom to keep body and spirit together. She wanted to be a revolutionary but has only followed the natural course of having gotten older." "I became a mother. I can't call that nothing.
'I don't understand you, says Hedzoff, who was not a very clever man. 'You Gaby! he didn't say WHICH Prince, says Gruffanuff. 'No; he didn't say which, certainly, said Hedzoff. 'Well then, take Bulbo, and hang HIM! When Captain Hedzoff heard this, he began to dance about for joy. 'Obedience is a soldier's honour, says he.
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