He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. "Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars.
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