It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. He was introduced to Brendon, and a chair was brought by an attentive waiter.
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