"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 turn out right . . ." with commendable hesitance. "I'll take all the responsibility. It's a whim." "Well, you American girls are the eighth wonder of the world." The purser was distinctly annoyed. "And it may be an impertinence on my part, but I never yet saw an American woman who would accept advice or act upon it." "Thanks. What would you advise?" with dangerous sweetness. "Not to meet this man. It's irregular. I know nothing about him. If you had a father or a brother on board. . . ." "Or even a husband!" laughing. "There you are!" resignedly. "You laugh. You women go everywhere, and half the time unprotected." "Never quite unprotected. We never venture beyond the call of gentlemen." "That is true," brightening. "You insist on meeting this chap?" "I do not insist; only, I am bored, and he might interest me for an hour." She added: "Besides, it may annoy the others." The purser grinned reluctantly. "You and the colonel don't get on. Well, I'll introduce this chap at dinner. If I don't. . . . "I am fully capable of speaking to him without any introduction whatever." She laughed again. "It will be very kind of you." When he had gone she mused over this impulse so alien to her character. An absolute stranger, a man with a past, perhaps a fugitive from justice; and because he looked like Arthur Ellison, she was seeking his acquaintance. Something, then, could break through her reserve and aloofness? She had traveled from San Francisco to Colombo, unattended save by an elderly maiden who had risen by gradual stages from nurse to companion, but who could not be made to remember that she was no longer a nurse. In all these four months Elsa had not made half a dozen acquaintances, and of these she had not sought one. Yet, she was asking to meet a stranger whose only recommendation was a singular likeness to another man. The purser was right. It was very irregular.