‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. "Off!" she cried with a prolonged and piercing shriek. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn.
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