'Victoria,' whispered Cairns leaning forward, 'you are very beautiful.' Victoria laughed and a faint flush rose into her cheeks. There was still something grateful in the admiration of this man, gross and limited as he might be, centred round his pleasures, sceptical of good and evil alike. Without a word she took up a spoon and began to eat her ice. Cairns watched every movement of her hand and wrist. 'Don't,' said Victoria after a pause. She dropped her spoon and put her hands under the table. 'Don't what?' said Cairns. 'Look at my hands. They're . . . Oh, they're not what they were. It makes me feel ashamed.' 'Nonsense,' said Cairns with a laugh. 'Your hands are still as fine as ever and, when we've had them manicured. . . .' He stopped abruptly as if he had said too much. 'Manicured?' said Victoria warily, though the 'we' had given her a little shock. 'Oh, they're not worth manicuring now for the sort of work I've got to do.' 'Look here, Victoria,' said Cairns rather roughly. 'This can't go on. You're not made to be one of the drabs. You say your work is telling on you: well, you must give it up.' 'Oh, I can't do that,' said Victoria, 'I've got to earn my living and I'm no good for anything else.' Cairns looked at her for a moment and meditatively sipped his port. 'Drink the port,' he commanded, 'it'll do you good.' Victoria obeyed willingly enough. There was already in her blood the glow of Burgundy; but the port, mellow, exquisite, and curling round the tongue, coloured like burnt almonds, fragrant too, concealed a deeper joy. The smoke from Cairns' cigar, half hiding his face, floating in wreaths between them, entered her nostrils, aromatic, narcotic. 'What are you thinking of doing now?' she asked. 'I don't know quite,' said Cairns. 'You see I broke my good resolution. After my job at Perim, they offered me some surveying work near Ormuz; they call it surveying, but it's spying really or it would be if there were anything to spy. I took it and rather enjoyed it.' 'Did you have any adventures?' asked Victoria. 'Nothing to speak of except expeditions into the hinterland trying to get fresh meat. The East is overrated, I assure you. A butr landed off our station once, probably intending to turn us into able-bodied slaves. There were only seven of us to their thirty but we killed ten with two volleys and they made off, parting with their anchor in their hurry.' Cairns looked at Victoria. The flush had not died from her cheeks. She was good to look upon. 'No,' he went on more slowly, 'I don't quite know what I shall do. I meant to retire anyhow, you know, and the sudden death of my uncle, old Marmaduke Cairns, settled it. I never expected to get a look in, but there was hardly anybody else to leave anything to, except his sisters whom he hated like poison, so I'm the heir. I don't yet know what I'm worth quite, but the old man always seemed to do himself pretty well.'