” He sat for a moment, absorbing. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. Bullding,” she declared. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. The room seemed a vacuum. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness.
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