And the white woman set eyes upon me, and her soul was filled up with a sharp bitterness: her soul overflowed as a wellspring of both contempt and longing, like a dual-headed river of parted waters ... the sweet rose-tinged longing of summer flowed to the right, and into the valley of darkness flowed the left head of the river.
And the white woman, passing in her yacht, sipping champagne, with a young swarthy paramour hanging upon her arm, casts a glance downwards towards my little canoe: her heart beats a little faster, her judgement is clouded with an involuntary pang of guilt. And she cries out, saying, 'What is your excuse?' (forasmuch that she may expatiate her guilt through projection and placing of the blame).
But I looked upon her fair countenance, and I could not say a thing: my lips were sealed.
And she snorted, and guffawed, and proclaimed in the ear of all her congregation, saying, 'Behold, a dwarf, a gnat, a wretched creature comes before us this day, to snatch away from us our mirth and merry-making: therefore, shoo! Get the hence, parasite: I sighed and complained and made long supplication to my Maker that none shall rain on my parade any longer.'
And she fell upon the face of her negro lover, and he grasped her, and they began to kiss.
And it came to pass, in the self-same hour, as I stood watching them enjoying life, that, behold, the currents had drifted my canoe towards the left hand side of the river: and with a tear in my eye I passed into the valley of darkness, condemned to death, never having lived.