“Oh, Arabic, and a dialect or two; they don't count. That tutor has a curious face.”
“You think so?” said Shelton, interested. “He's had a curious life.”
The traveller spread his hands, palms downwards, on the grass and looked at Shelton with, a smile.
“I should say he was a rolling stone,” he said. “It 's odd, I' ve seen white men in Central Africa with a good deal of his look about them.
“Your diagnosis is a good one,” answered Shelton.
“I 'm always sorry for those fellows. There's generally some good in them. They are their own enemies. A bad business to be unable to take pride in anything one does!” And there was a look of pity on his face.
“That's exactly it,” said Shelton. “I 've often tried to put it into words. Is it incurable?”
“I think so.”
“Can you tell me why?”
Whyddon pondered.