What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. That was the true marvel of it. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Mrs. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. But woe to those who disregard them! Of course, basically it is all wrong; and sometimes God must laugh at our ideas of rectitude.
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