’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl. He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. I shall be very sorry if I cannot have you for a friend. It must have cut him.
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