But the fair Creoles would not buy it.

It could not be good; it could not be the real article, unless it had crossed the Atlantic twice to and from that centre of fashion, Paris.

So the manufacture, which might have added greatly to the wealth of Trinidad, was given up, and the ladies of the island eat nought but French chocolate, costing, it is said, nearly four times as much as home made chocolate need cost.
As we walked on through the trace (for the tramway here was still unfinished) one of my kind companions pointed out a little plant, which bears in the island the ominous name of the Brinvilliers.

{127} It is one of those deadly poisons too common in the bush, and too well known to the negro Obi men and Obi-women.

And as I looked at the insignificant weed I wondered how the name of that wretched woman should have spread to this remote island, and have become famous enough to be applied to a plant.