Edward felt sick. His lips and his hands trembled. Emily did not look so incredible as he had expected. She looked quite human. He thought it was amazing that he should recognise her. How did he know she really was Emily? She was hidden in a crowd of foolish people. She was disguised by a calm rather stiff smile and faint blue shadows under her still eyes. Her body, usually nervous with life and mockery, moved staidly. “Well, Edward ... I got your wire. I have been dreadfully excited since I got it. You darling, funny old Edward.... Now you must know all these nice people ... Mrs. Thompson, Mrs. Hoskins, Mr. Thompson, Captain Ross ... this is Edward Williams.” How little her voice was. She had probably worn it away by crying. “Isn’t it funny—I knew Mrs. Thompson when I first came out in India and she and I have been spinning round and round the world ever since without colliding—till now. They are all on their way back to India from here—much too soon for me....” That accounted for them. They lived in India. They were all accustomed to supporting British prestige. Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Hoskins looked bright for a moment, noticing that Edward was a man. Their faces fell when they saw what a poor man he was, but they did not become spiteful as they would have, had he been a woman. Mrs. Thompson cringed intensely as she shook Edward’s hand; she peered with rigid sweetness into his eyes. The manner was automatic with her when a man was introduced. The hair of Mrs. Hoskins was brightly dyed and she had apparently been crushing cinders upon her eyelashes. So she did not trouble to don a laborious charm of manner; she relied upon her outside enchantments. Mr. Thompson was faded and supercilious; his withered tired face was set at an angle that directed his eyes far above anyone’s head. Captain Ross’ collar seemed too tight for him and his tiny moustache quivered as if he were not quite sure whether people really appreciated his importance. Edward had been brought up as a child in India. All his mother’s friends had been of this type—at least the husbands had been his mother’s friends, the wives her enemies, this division being the basis of society in India. A terrible thing was happening. Everyone was going away except Mrs. Thompson. “Back soon, Edward,” said Emily. “I must take Toby Ross to the map and make him admit that New York is further west than Valparaiso.” Two by two they went into another room, Emily and Captain Ross, Mrs. Hoskins and Mr. Thompson. Mrs. Thompson was unable to move since she could not, of course, cross the room unescorted by a man. She sat down tenderly beside Edward. “It is _so_ hot ...” she leaned forward with her face near his. The heat, he gathered, was a secret between him and her. “It is _so_ hard on me to come into this heat. I suffer _so_ from heat.” “Emily looks thinner too,” said Edward. He felt ashamed because a face that was not Emily’s was so close to his.