The Residency atmosphere is one huge sigh of relief. We would like to
speed the parting guest, but it mayn't be done. However, you'll know
there are others not so particular. I imagine her friends are late for
the appointment."

"Where's she going?" asked Monty.

"British East Africa."

"Mombasa?"

"And then on. She has drafts on a German merchant in Nairobi."

>From that moment until we were safely in our quarters on the steamer
Monty's attitude became one of rigid indifference toward her or
anything to do with her. The British officers went out to the steamer
with us, but all the way Monty only talked of the climate, trade
conditions, and the other subjects to which polite conversation of
Africa's east coast is limited. Fred kept nudging him, but Monty took
no notice. Yerkes whispered to Fred. Then I heard Fred whisper to
Monty in one of those raucous asides that he perfectly well knows can
be heard by everybody.

"Why don't you ask 'em about her, you ass?"

But Monty refused to rise. He talked of the bowed and ancient slaves
of Zanzibar, who refused in those days to be set free and afforded
prolific ground for attack on British public morals by people whose
business it is to abuse England for her peccadillos and forget her
virtues.*