Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. Ah Coom. CHAPTER XII. Here are all our harlequins and columbines of the spoken and written drama. "But, pardon my intrusion. She told us that it was a disguise. Who is to say that I am not André Valade, an obscure relation of the late vicomte. 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. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home.
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