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Chapter 10

           ‘Andunderafineoffifteenthousanddollars?’Hecoloured,sir,becauseitgotaboutthathefaintedfromfrightwhentheycametoarresthim,andthenbehavedbeforeFuentesinamannertomaketheverypolicianos,whohaddraggedhimtherebythehairofhishead,smileathiscringing.‘Yes,’hesays,inasortofshyway.‘Why?’‘Oh,nothing.Youstoodtoloseatidybit,’saysI,‘evenifyousavedyourlife....ButwhatcanIdoforyou?’Heneverevensawthepoint.Nothe.Andthat’showtheworldwags,sir.”

           Herosealittlestiffly,andthedrivetoRinconwouldbetakenwithonlyonephilosophicalremark,utteredbythemercilesscicerone,withhiseyesfixeduponthelightsofSanTome,thatseemedsuspendedinthedarknightbetweenearthandheaven.

           “Agreatpower,this,forgoodandevil,sir.Agreatpower.”

           AndthedinneroftheMirlifloreswouldbeeaten,excellentastocooking,andleavinguponthetraveller’smindanimpressionthattherewereinSulacomanypleasant,ableyoungmenwithsalariesapparentlytoolargefortheirdiscretion,andamongstthemafew,mostlyAnglo-Saxon,skilledintheartof,asthesayingis,“takingarise”outofhiskindhost.

           Witharapid,jinglingdrivetotheharbourinatwowheeledmachine(whichCaptainMitchellcalledacurricle)behindafleetandscraggymulebeatenallthetimebyanobviouslyNeapolitandriver,thecyclewouldbenearlyclosedbeforethelighted-upofficesoftheO.S.N.

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