“I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. \" \"Oh, that is pretty. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. “You do not know what you say. ” He relapsed into a stony silence. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects.
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