Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. ‘By the by, get Trodger to send up one of our best men, will you? Someone discreet. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. 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.
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