"Oh, hang his feelings! Think of ours," cried another of the party.

"All right. Have it your own way. Let's go in to supper," said the host.

The hastily improvised meal was a merry feast, and the loud voices and the
roars of laughter rang out into the silent night and reached the ears of
Chunerbutty sitting in his bungalow eating his heart out in bitterness and
jealousy. Noreen, presiding at one end of the long table, was the queen of
the festival and certainly had never enjoyed any supper in London as much
as this impromptu meal. General favourite as she always was with every man
in the district, this night there was added universal gladness at her
escape and the feeling of satisfaction that the outrage on her had been so
promptly avenged. While the girl was pleased with the warmth and sincerity
of the congratulations showered upon her, she was secretly delighted to see
the high esteem in which all the other men held Dermot. He was seated
beside her and shared with her the good wishes of the company. His health
was drunk with all the honours after hers, and the planters did not spare
his blushes in their loudly-expressed praises of his achievements.
Cordiality and good humour prevailed, and, although the fun was fast and
furious, Parry was the only one who drank too much. Before he became
objectionable, for he was usually quarrelsome in his cups, he was
dexterously cajoled out of the room and safely shepherded to his bungalow.



CHAPTER XI


THE MAKING OF A GOD