A live man. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. I knew where I would go next: Florence. She is the wife now of another man. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience.
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