“Jack bowed gravely. ‘I am more than sorry, Mr. Morrison,’ he said, ‘if it should appear to you that I have acted in any way caddishly.’ He paused a little constrainedly and I moved away. The presence of a third person at such an interview helps nobody. But once or twice I glanced at them during the next quarter of an hour, and it seemed to me that, though he was trying to mask it, the look of smouldering fury in Morrison’s eyes was growing more pronounced. From their attitude it struck me that Jack was protesting against some course of action on which the other was insisting, and I turned out to be right. “‘Morrison has made the following proposal,’ he said irritably to me when their conversation had finished. ‘That Molly should be left here in Rangoon with the English chaplain and his wife—apparently he’d fixed that already—and that we—he and I—should both go up country for a month or six weeks. Neither of us to see her during that time, and at the end of it she to be free to choose. As he pointed out, I suppose quite rightly, he had been engaged to her for more than four years, and it was rather rough on him to upset everything for what might prove only a passing fancy, induced by being thrown together on board ship. Of course, I pointed out to him that this was no question of a passing fancy—but he insisted.’ “‘And you agreed?’ I asked. “‘What else could I do?’ he cried. ‘Heaven knows I didn’t want to—it’s such awful rot and waste of time. But I suppose it is rather rough luck on the poor devil, and if it makes it any easier for him to have the agony prolonged a few weeks, it’s up to me to give him that satisfaction.’ “He went off to talk to the girl, leaving me smoking a cigarette thoughtfully; for, try as I would, I could not rid my mind of the suspicion that there was something behind this suggestion of Morrison’s—something sinister. Fortunately, Jack would be under my eye—in my bungalow; but even so, I felt uneasy. Morrison had been too quiet for safety, bearing in mind what manner of man he was. “We landed shortly after and I went round to the club. I didn’t see Morrison—he seemed to have disappeared shortly after his interview with Jack; but he had given the girl full directions as to how to get to the chaplain’s house. Jack took her there, and I’d arranged with him that he should come round after and join me. “The first man I ran into was McAndrew—a leather-faced Scotsman from up my part of the country—who was down in Rangoon on business. “‘Seen the bridegroom?’ he grunted as soon as he saw me. “‘Travelled out with the bride,’ I said briefly, not over-anxious to discuss the matter. “‘And what sort of a lassie is she?’ he asked curiously. “‘Perfectly charming,’ I answered, ringing the bell for a waiter. “‘Is that so?’ he said slowly, and our eyes met. ‘Man,’ he added still more slowly, ‘it should not be, it should not be. Poor lassie! Poor lassie!’