"A tonga? Why, who the deuce . . ." he ejaculated mentally. "It can't be . . . ." But at this point he fairly ran into the arms of a woman, in alpaca dust-cloak and shikarri helmet; a woman who clutched his left arm with both hands: and before he could collect his scattered senses, Quita's voice was in his ears. "Oh, Captain Desmond . . tell me . . is he . . . ?" "He is out of all danger now, . . if he can be kept quiet," Desmond answered, stifling his own amazement in view of her white face and shaking lips. "Thank God. Oh, thank God!" The words were a mere flutter of breath; and with the sudden relief from long tension all her courage went to pieces. A dry sob broke in her throat. Her lids dropped; and she fell limply against him. "You poor, dear, plucky woman," he murmured, putting an arm round her, and gently removing the heavy helmet; while she lay motionless; her head on his shoulder; no vestige of colour in lips or cheeks. Desmond began to think she must have fainted outright: and while he held her thus, meditating a cautious removal of his burden to the sofa, steps in the hall were followed by the appearance of Honor in the doorway: a radiant Honor, aglow with the good news that had brought her straight back to him, like a homing bird. Her small gasp of surprise melted into a smile of amused understanding, as Theo telegraphed wireless messages to her over the golden brown head that was trespassing, flagrantly and confidingly, on her own exclusive property. The whole thing was so exactly like Quita: so daring; so preposterous; so entirely forgivable! And Honor's hospitable brain at once began scouring the bungalow for some corner where she might stow this unexpected addition to her elastic household. "She must have left Dalhousie directly she got my first wire," Desmond said under his breath. "Get some brandy, while I put her down." But his first movement roused Quita from semi-unconsciousness. She lifted her head with a startled sound; and at sight of Honor the blood rushed back into her face. "This is pretty behaviour!" she said with a little broken laugh. "I'm so sorry. It must have been the reaction, the relief, after that excruciating journey." "No need to apologise!" Desmond answered, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "No use either to try and push my arm away. Let me get you to the sofa first." Honor piled two cushions behind her; and as she sank back into their silken softness, leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You very wonderful person," she said. "How on earth did you pull through it, all alone?" Quita shrugged her shoulders. "It was not amusing," she answered with her whimsical smile. "But it was an experience: and that is always something,--when it is over! I think I never realised before how big and how terrible a country India is; or how kind people are out here," she added, looking from one to the other with misty eyes.