A nice girl, Ethel; but, by Jove, it’s queer The way a fellow’s stubborn mind will turn To something that he should forget. That face— I saw once on a San Francisco street, How well I do recall the time and place. ‘A girl from Honolulu,’ some one said. I wonder where she is now! Married? Dead? [_A silent reverie for a moment_. _Then speaks again_.] I planned this trip with just one crazy thought— To look upon that strange girl’s face once more. That is the luny project which has brought The four of us to this idyllic shore. [_Laughs and lights a cigar_.] My scheme was worked with such consummate care That mother thinks _she_ planned the whole affair. Then she invited Ethel as her guest. [_Silence for a moment_.] Well, sometimes mothers know just what is best For wayward sons. And yet, and yet, and yet, Why is it one girl’s face I can’t forget? Why is it that I feel despondent hearted In missing that fool hope for which I started? Four thousand miles is something of a chase To run to cover one elusive face And then to _fail_. [_Reverie_. _A chant is heard outside_. _The man listens_. _The chant ceases and then a maiden slowly approaches calling out her flower wares_, _which she carries in a basket_; _she wears several lais herself_, _on hat and neck_. _She does not observe the man at first_.] FLOWER GIRL (_calls in a musical voice_) Lais, lais, royal lais, beautiful flowers in bloom; Colours of splendour, fragrance so tender, Blossoms to brighten your room; Lais, lais, royal lais, who buys— RALPH (_leans forward and says aside_) (Eve and the serpent meet in Paradise.) [_He moves forward as the maid enters the doorway_. _Recognition shows in both faces_. _Then the maiden recovers her self-possession and starts to go_.] RALPH (_with sudden boldness and excitement_) I’ll buy you out, in case you then are free To stay awhile, beneath this banyan tree, And tell me all about your lovely land. FLOWER GIRL (_with dignity_) Your pardon, sir, I do not understand. RALPH (_who seems drunk with exhilaration_) Oh well, ’tis plain enough; from realms of snow I landed here, some little time ago, A lonely orphan, without kith or kin. I need a friend. [FLOWER GIRL _gives him an indignant_, _surprised glance_. _Then speaks with quiet sarcasm_.] Sir, they will take you in On Hotel Street. The Y.M.C.A. there Shelters all homeless youths within its pale. RALPH (_shaking his head sadly_) They wouldn’t take _me_ in. I am from Yale. GIRL (_with mock sympathy_)