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. ‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. I do want them. She dare not risk it. " "Mother be——!" returned Jack. " "Never to return," remarked Jack, gloomily. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum.
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