I don't recall at what figure the experiment
worked out, but it was a ridiculously small one.'
A spirit, kindred in its attitude to the seriousness of life, animated
Sir George Grey, even as he spoke. Affairs in England seemed critical,
and he would stay on to watch them, since any hint might be of import. In
London there beat the heart of the Empire, and he would keep his ear to
it. He heard most clearly through that trumpet, the endless roll of
London's traffic. Moreover, the great city, while she hardly nodded to
Sir George, smote him afresh with the spell which is hers alone. Oh to be
in London!
So dates moved past, and Sir George Grey, as he waned under the growing
load, realised that he and Greater Britain would be no more together.
That thought he parried, not liking to admit it, but the painter was cut
when he resigned his place in the Parliament of New Zealand. It had to be
done, therefore let it be done; but it was a shock, like losing a limb to
the surgeon.
A hail from Greater Britain became thrice welcome, and that of Mahomed
Naser Eben took Sir George by siege, especially its quaintness and
literary touch. When Governor of the Cape Colony, he sent word up-country,
by David Livingstone, that he would be glad of any manuscripts
throwing light upon the Greeks and Romans in Africa.
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