She came along with the fluttering assurance of some tall ship. “Nothing was ever done,” Miss Brett asserted, “without a certain element of Faith. I—listen. ‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. 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 had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 03:14:31
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