shoulder, and said angrily--

"This is no play; I am going to do something for him. Look serious.
Confound it! . . . Can't you lie a little . . . for a friend!"

Karain seemed to take no notice of us, but when Hollis threw open the
lid of the box his eyes flew to it--and so did ours. The quilted crimson
satin of the inside put a violent patch of colour into the sombre
atmosphere; it was something positive to look at--it was fascinating.


VI

Hollis looked smiling into the box. He had lately made a dash home
through the Canal. He had been away six months, and only joined us again
just in time for this last trip. We had never seen the box before. His
hands hovered above it; and he talked to us ironically, but his face
became as grave as though he were pronouncing a powerful incantation
over the things inside.

"Every one of us," he said, with pauses that somehow were more offensive
than his words--"every one of us, you'll admit, has been haunted by some
woman . . . And . . . as to friends . . . dropped by the way . . . Well!
. . . ask yourselves . . ."

He paused. Karain stared. A deep rumble was heard high up under the
deck. Jackson spoke seriously--

"Don't be so beastly cynical."