“She needn’t even put the jug on, need she?” said Constantia, as though Kate might very well complain if the jug had been there. “Oh no, certainly not! The jug’s not at all necessary. She can pour it direct out of the kettle,” cried Josephine, feeling that would be a labour-saving indeed. Their cold lips quivered at the greenish brims. Josephine curved her small red hands round the cup; Constantia sat up and blew on the wavy steam, making it flutter from one side to the other. “Speaking of Benny,” said Josephine. And though Benny hadn’t been mentioned Constantia immediately looked as though he had. “He’ll expect us to send him something of father’s, of course. But it’s so difficult to know what to send to Ceylon.” “You mean things get unstuck so on the voyage,” murmured Constantia. “No, lost,” said Josephine sharply. “You know there’s no post. Only runners.” Both paused to watch a black man in white linen drawers running through the pale fields for dear life, with a large brown-paper parcel in his hands. Josephine’s black man was tiny; he scurried along glistening like an ant. But there was something blind and tireless about Constantia’s tall, thin fellow, which made him, she decided, a very unpleasant person indeed.... On the veranda, dressed all in white and wearing a cork helmet, stood Benny. His right hand shook up and down, as father’s did when he was impatient. And behind him, not in the least interested, sat Hilda, the unknown sister-in-law. She swung in a cane rocker and flicked over the leaves of the _Tatler_. “I think his watch would be the most suitable present,” said Josephine. Constantia looked up; she seemed surprised. “Oh, would you trust a gold watch to a native?” “But of course, I’d disguise it,” said Josephine. “No one would know it was a watch.” She liked the idea of having to make a parcel such a curious shape that no one could possibly guess what it was. She even thought for a moment of hiding the watch in a narrow cardboard corset-box that she’d kept by her for a long time, waiting for it to come in for something. It was such beautiful, firm cardboard. But, no, it wouldn’t be appropriate for this occasion. It had lettering on it: _Medium Women’s_ 28. _Extra Firm Busks._ It would be almost too much of a surprise for Benny to open that and find father’s watch inside. “And of course it isn’t as though it would be going—ticking, I mean,” said Constantia, who was still thinking of the native love of jewellery. “At least,” she added, “it would be very strange if after all that time it was.” VIII