The contest, however, though desperate, was brief. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me.
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