“They say there are spots on the sun. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away. They talked across their meal in an easy and friendly manner about Ann Veronica’s affairs. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. 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.
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