CHAPTER X. Michelle smiled. “You know what a fearful old prig Ferringhall is, always goes about as though the whole world were watching him? We tried to show him around Paris, but he wouldn’t have any of it. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried. His hunger satisfied, his spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood all his natural audacity returned. In a sense it alters nothing. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. 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. It is with the building raised after this direful calamity that our history has to deal. By the way, what did he say when he was out of his head?" "The word 'Fool. F. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII.
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