” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister. Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. After quarter of an hour, she followed. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert.
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