’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. "What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs.
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