They both listened intently. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. In the beginning was afraid; but after the first several cases, I had only pity. “I am under police surveillance,” she said. Apparently he thought it very much worth while. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. To preach a fine sermon every Sunday so that he would lose neither the art nor the impulse; and this child, in secret rebellion, taking it down in long hand during odd hours in the week! Preaching grandiloquently before a few score natives who understood little beyond the gestures, for the single purpose of warding off disintegration! It reminded the doctor of a stubborn retreat; from barricade to barricade, grimly fighting to keep the enemy at bay, that insidious enemy of the white man in the South Seas—inertia.
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