"Heart of Darkness"
by Joseph Conrad

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     "Certainly," grunted the other; "get him hanged! Why not? Anything -- anything can be done in this country. That's what I say; nobody here, you understand, here, can endanger your position. And why? You stand the climate -- you outlast them all. The danger is in Europe; but there before I left I took care to -- "

     They moved off and whispered, then their voices rose again.

     "The extraordinary series of delays is not my fault. I did my best." The fat man sighed. "Very sad."


     "And the pestiferous absurdity of his talk," continued the other; "he bothered me enough when he was here. 'Each station should be like a beacon on the road towards better things, a centre for trade of course, but also for humanizing, improving, instructing.' Conceive you -- that ass! And he wants to be manager! No, it's -- "

     Here he got choked by excessive indignation, and I lifted my head the least bit. I was surprised to see how near they were -- right under me. I could have spat upon their hats. They were looking on the ground, absorbed in thought. The manager was switching his leg with a slender twig: his sagacious relative lifted his head.

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