Finally she fell into reflection. "The poor young man!" she said. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. She was mentally transported for an instant to the old castle in Herculis. He had quite enough to see to and worry about in the City without their doing things. 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 leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story.
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