He would have throttled another who dared to criticise them, yet he himself took a certain pleasure in an opportunity that made criticism pertinent rather than impertinent.

It was not that he prided himself on knowing or doing better, he was not naturally a theorist, nor didactic; but education had awakened his mind, not only to difficulties in the path of faith, but to a higher standard of altruism than was exacted by old-fashioned orthodoxy.
"I think I'd better write to Souris, sir; the letter is to me, you see, and I should not feel quite justified in taking no steps to investigate the matter." How easy the hackneyed phrase "taking steps" sounded to Caius! but experience breeds strong instincts.

The elder man felt the importance of this first decision, and struck out against it as an omen of ill.
"In my opinion you'll do well to let the matter lie where it is.

How will you look making inquiries about sick folk as if you had a great fortune to spend upon philanthropy, when it turns out that you have none?
If you'd not spent all my money on your own schooling, perhaps you'd have some to play the fine gentleman with now, and send a hospital and its staff on this same schooner." (This was the first reproach of his son's extravagance which had ever passed his lips; it betokened passion indeed.) "If you write you can't do less than send a case of medicines, and who is to pay for them, I'd like to know?
I'm pretty well cleared out.

They're a hardened lot of wreckers on those islands--I've heard that told of them many a time.