She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. "When a man reaches the lowest scale through drink, we call him a beachcomber. I want to make my own selection. ‘Not kill me, I mean. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands.
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