whoever he was, had not Mhtoon Pah's leisure to regard the street, and
he went on with a steady, quick walk which took him out on to the wharf,
and from the wharf along a waste place where the tram lines ceased, and
away from there towards a cluster of lights in a house close over the
dark river itself.

The stars came out overhead, and the Southern Cross leaned down; seen
from the river over the twin towers of the cathedral, seen from the
cathedral brooding over the native quarter, seen in Paradise Street not
at all, and not in any way missed by the inhabitants, whose eyes were
not upon the stars; seen again in the Cantonment, over the massed trees
of the park, and seen remarkably well from the wide veranda of Mrs.
Wilder's bungalow, where the guests sat after a long dinner, remarking
upon the heat and oppressiveness of the tropic night. The fire-flies
danced over the trees like iridescent sparks hung on invisible gauze,
and even came into the lighted drawing-room, to sparkle with less
radiance against the plain white walls. Fans whirred round and round
like large tee-totums set near the ceiling, and even the electric light
appeared to give out heat; no breeze stirred from the far-away river, no
coolness came with the dark, no relief from the brooding, sultry heat.
It was no hotter than many nights in any break in the rains, but the
guests invited by Mrs. Wilder felt the languor of the air, and felt it
more profoundly because their hostess herself was affected by it.

Mrs. Wilder was a dark, handsome woman of thirty-five, usually full of
life and animation, and her dinners were known to be entertainments in
the real sense of the word. Draycott Wilder was no mate for her in
appearance or manner, but Draycott Wilder was marked by the Powers as a
successful man. He took very little part in the social side of their
married life, and sat in the shadow near the lighted door, listening