Chisholm was quiet for a moment or two, and then resumed: "That is not altogether what I meant; in fact, it's hard to state frankly what I do mean. I like Harry Wyndham. He's clever, resolute, and a good sportsman, but when he wanted to marry Flora I hesitated. Well, your story has given me some comfort. You have been with Wyndham and are satisfied. One can trust you." "You are very kind, sir," Marston answered with a touch of awkwardness. "The business is risky, the climate's bad, and one must use some control. Leave liquor alone, for example; I think you understand! Still Harry's rather a Spartan; there's an ascetic vein in him. Besides, he won't stay long. As soon as he has put things straight he's coming back." "Thank you," said Chisholm, but when he went off Marston felt embarrassed. Chisholm trusted him and he was not sure he had been altogether frank. Wyndham, of course, was free from certain gross temptations to which some white men in the tropics were victims; but there were others, subtle and insidious, that rather appealed to the brain than the body. Marston could not declare that Harry resisted these. Yet it was impossible he should tell Chisholm his vague but disturbing doubts. It was some relief when Mabel returned and sat down opposite. "Have they tired you, Bob?" she asked. "Light a cigarette and don't talk unless you want." "I want to talk," said Marston, who used no reserve with her. "Very well. To begin with, you saw my hint when Flora talked about the pearls." Marston laughed. "After all, I'm not so dull as some people think. You didn't want Flora to know I had brought you pearls?" "Something like that. Why did Harry send her none?" "It's rather puzzling," Marston replied thoughtfully. "I suggested I should take a few to Flora, but he said they were not good enough. They're not really first-class pearls, you know. Then he said they might be unlucky. The strange thing is, I think he meant it." "Yet you brought some for me? You're honest, but you don't always use much tact, dear Bob!" "Oh, well. We're not superstitious and I'd no grounds for thinking the pearls would bring bad luck." "It looks as if your partner had some grounds." "Yes," said Marston. "I don't understand the thing. For that matter, I was puzzled about other things now and then, and although I wanted to get back to you I felt shabby about coming home. Somehow I had a notion I ought to stay. After all, you let me go and would like me to finish my job." "You're rather a dear and very staunch," Mabel remarked with a gentle smile. "Anyhow, you were ill and had done enough." She was quiet for a time and Marston was satisfied to smoke and study her. It had got dark, but the fire was bright and touched her face while she sat still, as if lost in concentrated thought. Marston thought her beautiful and she had beauty, but her beauty was not her strongest charm. "Bob," she remarked presently, "yours was a curious dream."