CHAPTER VI

Luncheon, for which Li Ho had provided eggs both boiled and fried,
was eaten alone. His hostess did not honor him with her company, nor
did her father return. Li Ho was attentive but silent And outside
the rain still rained.

Professor Spence lay and counted the drops as they fell from a knot
hole in the veranda roof--one small drop--two medium-sized drops--
one big drop--as if some unseen djinn were measuring them out in
ruthless monotony. He counted the drops until his brain felt soggy
and he began to speculate upon what Aunt Caroline would think of
fried eggs for luncheon. He wondered why there were no special
dishes for special meals in Li Ho's domestic calendar; why all
things, to Li Ho, were good (or bad) at all times? Would he give
them porridge and bacon for dinner? Spence decided that he didn't
mind. He was ready to like anything which was strikingly different
from Aunt Caroline. . . .

One small drop--two medium-sized drops--one big drop. . . . He
wondered when he would know his young nurse well enough to call her
by her first name? (Prefixed by "miss," perhaps.) "Desire"--it was a
rather charming name. How old would she be, he wondered; twenty?
There were times when she looked even younger than twenty. But he
had to confess that she never acted like it. At least she did not
act as he had believed girls of twenty are accustomed to act. Very
differently indeed. . . . One small drop--two medium-sized--oh,