Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. 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. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. . I had no right to marry you. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. From there I plan to travel until I reach Columbia—but any lawless country will do. uk Cover Art by David Evans Bailey www.
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