” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. 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. " On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. The little old lady struck like a projectile upon the resounding chest of the foremost of these, and then Ann Veronica had got past and was ascending the steps. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head.
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