‘It is the case with so many things,’ agreed Mouraki: ‘debts, diseases, enemies, wives, lovers.’ There was a little pause before the last word, so slight that I could not tell whether it were intentional or not; and I had learnt to expect no enlightenment from Mouraki’s face or eyes. But he chose himself to solve the mystery this time. ‘Do I touch delicate ground?’ he asked. ‘Ah, my dear lord, I find from my reports that in the account you gave me of your experiences you let modesty stand in the way of candour. It was natural perhaps. I don’t blame you, since I have found out elsewhere what you omitted to tell me. Yet it was hardly a secret, since everybody in Neopalia knew it.’ I smoked my cigarette, feeling highly embarrassed and very uncomfortable. ‘And I am told,’ pursued Mouraki, with his malicious smile, ‘that the idea of a Wheatley-Stefanopoulos dynasty is by no means unpopular. Constantine’s little tricks have disgusted them with him.’ ‘What are you going to do with him?’ I asked, risking any offence now in order to turn the topic. ‘Do you really like jumping from subject to subject?’ asked Mouraki plaintively. ‘I am, I suppose, a slow-minded Oriental, and it fatigues me horribly.’ I could have thrown the cigarette I was smoking in his face with keen pleasure. ‘It is for your Excellency to choose the topic,’ said I, restraining my fury. ‘Oh, don’t let us have “Excellencies” when we’re alone together! Indeed I congratulate you on your conquest. She is magnificent; and it was charming of her to make her declaration. That’s what has pleased the islanders: they’re romantic savages, after all, and the chivalry of it touches them.’ ‘It must touch anybody,’ said I. ‘Ah, I suppose so,’ said Mouraki, flicking away his ash. ‘I questioned her a little about it this morning.’ ‘You questioned her?’ For all I could do there was a quiver of anger in my voice. I heard it myself, and it did not escape my companion’s notice. His smile grew broader. ‘Precisely. I have to consider everything,’ said he. ‘I assure you, my dear Wheatley, that I did it in the most delicate manner possible.’ ‘It couldn’t be done in a delicate manner.’ ‘I struggled,’ said Mouraki, assuming his plaintive tone again, and spreading out deprecatory hands. Was Mouraki merely amusing himself with a little ‘chaff,’ or had he a purpose? He seemed like a man who would have a purpose. I grew cool on the thought of it. ‘And did the lady answer your questions?’ I asked carelessly. ‘Wouldn’t it be a treachery in me to tell you what she said?’ countered Mouraki. ‘I think not; because there’s no doubt that the whole thing was only a good-natured device of hers.’ ‘Ah! A very good-natured device indeed! She must be an amiable girl,’ smiled the Pasha. ‘Precisely the sort of girl to make a man’s home happy.’ ‘She hasn’t much chance of marriage in Neopalia,’ said I.