I killed him, Nigel. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. "So the wheelman told you? I've always spoken it, though I can neither read nor write it. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. It is the immediate inspiration of confidence; it alleviates pain, because we know by that smile that pain is soon to leave us; it becomes the bulwark against our depressive thoughts of death; and it is the promise that we still have a long way to go before we reach the Great Terminal. He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way.
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