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. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached.
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