’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. White caught her eye, and smiled benignly down the table. “What are your objections?” she said. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. 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. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. The man was mad to marry me.
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