“But whoever dreamt of that?” exclaimed Shafto. “And here by great good luck comes Gregory. I say, he looks as if his last partner had gone No Trumps on a Yarborough!” Almost before he had joined them the police officer disappeared, and the party adjourned to the supper-room, where they found places at the same round table as Mrs. Pomeroy and Herr Bernhard. Herr Krauss, a ponderous free lance, who was completely detached, joined the circle uninvited, and pushed his huge person into an empty chair, next to Miss Bliss. The soup, hot quails, and champagne were above criticism. Miss Bliss, as usual, did most of the talking and entertained the company. “What a difference there is between our dancing and the native performance,” she remarked. “Our tangos and turkey-trotting are just an amusement, ending in a feast, whilst their diversion is mostly prayers, intoning, gongs, and bells, burning candles and telling beads. The Burmese seem to be always thinking of their souls; Oriental nations beat us at religion.” “Religion, such as it is!” rejoined Bernhard with a sneer. “After all, what does it amount to with them but the fear of evil spirits and the propitiation of _nats_ and demons? Crowds go to the Pagoda and offer flowers, prayers and candles, yet all the time their faith is not in Buddha, but in devils. They cover up their pillars and offer sacrifices to the _nats_, build them nice little houses, make them flattering speeches, and look for a return in the shape of a piece of luck! Buddhism is merely a philosophy—not a religion,” he concluded sententiously. “Well, there is one item in their faith which I admire,” said Shafto; “they have no fear of death—they firmly believe that we shall pass into another existence, and how we fare in the next world depends on our good or evil deeds in this.” “Surely that is an ordinary point of view,” said Fuchsia, “and talking of evil deeds, such as big and little lies—murder—robbery—fraud, does anyone think there is _real_ harm in smuggling? No one would call that an evil deed, although it is punishable by law. I must confess that it appeals to me enormously; it’s like a game, a sort of hide and seek. If I only had an opening, I feel confident that it is _in_ me to become a most accomplished professional! There is no injury to anyone, and it must be so exciting, and if you bring it off, oh, what a triumph! I did envy a woman I came across with from France. She landed a twenty-thousand pearl necklace in a hair-pad.” “You needn’t go far for smuggling—there’s plenty of it in this country,” said Mrs. Pomeroy, in her slow, decided manner. “My husband says it is on the increase, and is a most serious question—a matter of vital concern.” “Increase!” echoed Krauss. “No, no, my dear lady, that is nonsense; don’t you believe it. Smuggling isn’t worth while in Burma—it couldn’t pay.”