'I'm glad he's fighting in India, and not in Africa.

I can't love the buccaneering shopkeeper, the whisky-distiller with a rifle--ugh!' 'I hate that kind of thing.

The gold grubbers and diamond bagmen! But it's part of the march onward.

We must have money, you know.' The speaker's forehead wrinkled, and again he moved uneasily.

Rolfe regarded him with a reflective air.
'That man you saw here tonight,' Carnaby went on, 'the short, thick fellow--his name is Dando--he's just come back from Queensland.