We save our money, and buy threepence of tobacco for the Hottentot maid who calls us names.

We are exotically virtuous.

At night we are profoundly religious; even the ticking watch says, "Eternity, eternity! hell, hell, hell!" and the silence talks of God, and the things that shall be.
Occasionally, also, unpleasantly shrewd questions begin to be asked by some one, we know not who, who sits somewhere behind our shoulder.

We get to know him better afterward.
Now we carry the questions to the grown-up people, and they give us answers.

We are more or less satisfied for the time.