“You are magnificent,” she said, “but the steel of your truth is a little oversharpened. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. 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. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty.
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