[The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad]@TWC D-Link book
The Secret Agent

CHAPTER VI
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It fed, since it could not roam abroad, upon the human material which was brought to it in its official seclusion.

We can never cease to be ourselves.
His elbow on the desk, his thin legs crossed, and nursing his cheek in the palm of his meagre hand, the Assistant Commissioner in charge of the Special Crimes branch was getting hold of the case with growing interest.
His Chief Inspector, if not an absolutely worthy foeman of his penetration, was at any rate the most worthy of all within his reach.

A mistrust of established reputations was strictly in character with the Assistant Commissioner's ability as detector.

His memory evoked a certain old fat and wealthy native chief in the distant colony whom it was a tradition for the successive Colonial Governors to trust and make much of as a firm friend and supporter of the order and legality established by white men; whereas, when examined sceptically, he was found out to be principally his own good friend, and nobody else's.

Not precisely a traitor, but still a man of many dangerous reservations in his fidelity, caused by a due regard for his own advantage, comfort, and safety.


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