“My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. But I will disappoint you. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for you, the whole song is for you. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their superiority as a race.
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