They'd long for 'Home and Old England' and this grub-and-grind life.

Gracious heaven, look at them--crumpled-up creatures! And I'll stake my life, they were as pretty children as you'd care to see.

They are out of place in the landscape, Brillon; for it is all luxury and lush, and they are crumples--crumples! But yet there isn't any use being sorry for them, for they don't grasp anything outside the life they are living.

Can't you guess how they live?
Look at the doors of the houses shut, and the windows sealed; yet they've been up these three hours! And they'll suck in bad air, and bad food; and they'll get cancer, and all that; and they'll die and be trotted away to the graveyard for 'passun' to hurry them into their little dark cots, in the blessed hope of everlasting life! I'm going to know this thing, Brillon, from tooth to ham-string; and, however it goes, we'll have lived up and down the whole scale; and that's something." He suddenly stopped, and then added: "I'm likely to go pretty far in this.

I can't tell how or why, but it's so.