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. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen.
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