The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot wide. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. You can’t go. For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. 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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