Well educated; somewhere back a gentleman; from the States. Of course
I don't know; something shady, probably. They don't tramp about like
this otherwise. For all that, he's rather a decent sort; no bounder
like that rotter we left at Mandalay. He never talks about himself. I
fancy he's lonesome again."

"Lonesome?"

"It's the way, you know. These poor beggars drop aboard for the night,
merely to see a white woman again, to hear decent English, to dress and
dine like a human being. They disappear the next day, and often we
never see them again."

"What do they do?" The question came to her lips mechanically.

"Paddy-fields. White men are needed to oversee them. And then,
there's the railway, and there's the new oil-country north of Prome.
You'll see the wells to-morrow. Rather fancy this Warrington chap has
been working along the new pipelines. They're running them down to
Rangoon. Well, there goes the last bag. Will you excuse me? The
lading bills, you know. If he's with us tomorrow, I'll have him put
the parrot through its turns. An amusing little beggar."

"Why not introduce him to me?"

"Beg pardon?"

"I'm not afraid," quietly.

"By Jove, no! But this is rather difficult, you know. If he shouldn't