a bare coast, the muddy edge of the brown plain with the sinuosities
of the river you had left, traced in dull green, and the Great Pagoda
uprising lonely and massive with shining curves and pinnacles like the
gorgeous and stony efflorescence of tropical rocks. You had nothing to
do but to wait fretfully for the balance of your cargo, which was sent
out of the river with the greatest irregularity. And it was open to
you to console yourself with the thought that, after all, this stage
of bother meant that your departure from these shores was indeed
approaching at last.

We both had to go through that stage, Hermann and I, and there was a
sort of tacit emulation between the ships as to which should be ready
first. We kept on neck and neck almost to the finish, when I won
the race by going personally to give notice in the forenoon; whereas
Hermann, who was very slow in making up his mind to go ashore, did not
get to the agents' office till late in the day. They told him there that
my ship was first on turn for next morning, and I believe he told them
he was in no hurry. It suited him better to go the day after.

That evening, on board the Diana, he sat with his plump knees well
apart, staring and puffing at the curved mouthpiece of his pipe.
Presently he spoke with some impatience to his niece about putting the
children to bed. Mrs. Hermann, who was talking to Falk, stopped short
and looked at her husband uneasily, but the girl got up at once and
drove the children before her into the cabin. In a little while Mrs.
Hermann had to leave us to quell what, from the sounds inside, must have
been a dangerous mutiny. At this Hermann grumbled to himself. For half
an hour longer Falk left alone with us fidgeted on his chair, sighed
lightly, then at last, after drawing his hands down his face, got up,
and as if renouncing the hope of making himself understood (he hadn't