"
"'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal,
Quilt?"
"Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect
light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy
drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance,
but with a very shrewd aspect. Are you already thinking about college?\"
Michelle nodded yes as they waited for a car to pass
before crossing the street. ”
209
Clotilde was no fool. That night, she
hunted the alleyways of the old town. 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. . ’
A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. "This must be prevented," he added to himself.
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