" He patted her hand. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. 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. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky.
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