He had an immense respect for Sir John, whom he tersely described as a "game one," but his knowledge of the world went towards the supposition that headstrong age would finally bow before headstrong youth.

He did not, however, devote much consideration to these matters, being a young man although an old soldier, and taking a lively interest in the present.
It had been arranged by letter that Jack Meredith should put up, as his host expressed it, at the small bungalow occupied by Maurice Gordon and his sister.

Gordon was the local head of a large trading association somewhat after the style of the old East India Company, and his duties partook more of the glory of a governor than of the routine of a trader.
Of Maurice Gordon's past Meredith knew nothing beyond the fact that they were schoolfellows strangely brought together again on the deck of a coasting steamer.

Maurice Gordon was not a reserved person, and it was rather from a lack of opportunity than from an excess of caution that he allowed his new-found friend to go up the Ogowe river, knowing so little of himself, Maurice Gordon, of Loango.
There were plenty of willing guides and porters on the beach; for in this part of Africa there is no such thing as continued and methodical labour.

The entire population considers the lilies of the field to obvious purpose.
Joseph presently organised a considerable portion of this population into a procession, headed triumphantly by an old white-woolled negro whose son cleaned Maurice Gordon's boots.