I came to Africa for different reasons." Dominey drank deep of his hock and seltzer and leaned back, watching the fireflies rise above the tall-bladed grass, above the stumpy clumps of shrub, and hang like miniature stars in the clear, violet air.
"What a world!" he soliloquised.

"Siggy Devinter, Baron Von Ragastein, out here, slaving for God knows what, drilling niggers to fight God knows whom, a political machine, I suppose, future Governor-General of German Africa, eh?
You were always proud of your country, Devinter." "My country is a country to be proud of," was the solemn reply.
"Well, you're in earnest, anyhow," Dominey continued, "in earnest about something.

And I--well, it's finished with me.

It would have been finished last night if I hadn't seen the smoke from your fires, and I don't much care--that's the trouble.

I go blundering on.