Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. 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. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. "Help!—murder!—thieves!" screamed Mrs.
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