“Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower. Then she came a few steps to meet him. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. 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. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents.
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