” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. The unequal battle went on. I just wanted a breath of air. His eyes were set too close together. And yet, mulling it over, he began to understand why the white man was so powerful in the world: he was taught loyalty and fair play in his schools, and he carried this spirit the world which his forebears had conquered. But this child! … It's a damnable business!" "I shall defend her and protect her with every drop of blood in my body!" replied the Flagellant.
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