Salter accompanied his guest to the entrance gate, giving him careful directions as to the whereabouts of his hotel. It was an exquisite starlight night; the roar of the bazaar, the clang of the trams, and the whistling of launches were in the distance; the compound itself was so still that the sudden thud of a fallen jack-fruit made quite a startling sound. As the men exchanged last words, their attention was arrested by a charming tableau in the lighted sitting-room; two figures were outlined in strong relief against the dark teak walls, both absorbed in conversation. Ma Chit presented a particularly attractive picture, with her rose-crowned head, graceful posture, and waving hands; even as they gazed, her rippling laugh drifted seductively towards them. “In this country, great is the tyranny of Temptation, and _there_ is one of the temptations,” gravely announced Salter; “Rangoon is full of these fascinating _chits_, who have no morals, but are witty, good-tempered and gay. Ma Chit—the name means ‘my love’—is said to be irresistible and the prettiest girl in the province; she is Bernhard’s housekeeper.” “His housekeeper!” repeated Shafto; “why, he told me he lived at the German Club!” “That may be; but he has a fine house in Kokine. It is not an uncommon situation—that sort of temporary marriage. Ma Chit looks after his interests, rules his household, and makes him comfortable; her people acquiesce. All marriages are easily arranged and easily dissolved among the Burmans. A young man may offer sweets, serenade a girl a few times; if he is acceptable, there’s a family dinner, with much chewing of betel nut, and that constitutes the ceremony!” “What a happy-go-lucky country!” exclaimed Shafto. “Happy, yes! Lucky, I’m not sure! Well now, don’t lose your way; first turn to the right, second to the left, and there is the Strand. Good night!” CHAPTER XII EAST AND WEST The first and principal sight in Rangoon is the great Shwe Dagon Pagoda, and on Sunday afternoon Shafto and his new acquaintance passed between the golden lions at its base, and slowly ascended flight after flight of steep brick steps, lined with flower-decked shrines and blocked by dense masses of worshippers, who were swarming up and down. The temple stands in imposing majesty on a wide platform and dominates the town—in fact, apart from the trade and business element, the Pagoda _is_ Rangoon. The splendid edifice is entirely encased in plates of solid gold, and the “Ti,” which rises from the inverted begging-bowl, is studded with priceless precious stones—emeralds, rubies, sapphires and diamonds—which flash and glitter in the sun. These have been presented by pious pilgrims from all parts of the province and beyond; for, with the exception of the Caaba at Mecca, no earthly shrine attracts such multitudes, or receives such generous largesse.