’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. 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. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. I believe it amused him.
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