“The four heads sprang apart at the first sound, and four pairs of eyes became fixed stonily on Davidson. The woman came forward, having little more on her than a loose chintz wrapper and straw slippers on her bare feet. Her head was tied up Malay fashion in a red handkerchief, with a mass of loose hair hanging under it behind. Her professional, gay, European feathers had literally dropped off her in the course of these two years, but a long necklace of amber beads hung round her uncovered neck. It was the only ornament she had left; Bamtz had sold all her poor-enough trinkets during the flight from Saigon—when their association began. “She came forward, past the table, into the light, with her usual groping gesture of extended arms, as though her soul, poor thing! had gone blind long ago, her white cheeks hollow, her eyes darkly wild, distracted, as Davidson thought. She came on swiftly, grabbed him by the arm, dragged him in. ‘It’s heaven itself that sends you to-night. My Tony’s so bad—come and see him. Come along—do!’ “Davidson submitted. The only one of the men to move was Bamtz, who made as if to get up but dropped back in his chair again. Davidson in passing heard him mutter confusedly something that sounded like ‘poor little beggar.’ “The child, lying very flushed in a miserable cot knocked up out of gin-cases, stared at Davidson with wide, drowsy eyes. It was a bad bout of fever clearly. But while Davidson was promising to go on board and fetch some medicines, and generally trying to say reassuring things, he could not help being struck by the extraordinary manner of the woman standing by his side. Gazing with despairing expression down at the cot, she would suddenly throw a quick, startled glance at Davidson and then towards the other room. “‘Yes, my poor girl,’ he whispered, interpreting her distraction in his own way, though he had nothing precise in his mind. ‘I’m afraid this bodes no good to you. How is it they are here?’ “She seized his forearm and breathed out forcibly: ‘No good to me! Oh, no! But what about you! They are after the dollars you have on board.’ “Davidson let out an astonished ‘How do they know there are any dollars?’ “She clapped her hands lightly, in distress. ‘So it’s true! You have them on board? Then look out for yourself.’ “They stood gazing down at the boy in the cot, aware that they might be observed from the other room. “‘We must get him to perspire as soon as possible,’ said Davidson in his ordinary voice. ‘You’ll have to give him hot drink of some kind. I will go on board and bring you a spirit-kettle amongst other things.’ And he added under his breath: ‘Do they actually mean murder?’ “She made no sign, she had returned to her desolate contemplation of the boy. Davidson thought she had not heard him even, when with an unchanged expression she spoke under her breath.