No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. But here she met with a check. “Both!” said Ann Veronica. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. But she was not there. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. ‘All right, Trodger. He looked at his friend. 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.
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