avels at a page marked at haphazard by an ivory paper knife with the
American flag upon the flat hilt, an early gift from Lucille, and began to
read the remarks of Robert Burton of quaintly glorious memory upon the
source of his late adventure.

"Those which are jealous, most part, if they be not otherwise relieved,
proceed from suspicion to hatred, from hatred to frenzy, madness, injury,
murder and despair {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Amestris, Xerxes's wife, because she found her
husband's cloak in Masista's house, cut off Masista's wife's paps and gave
them to the dogs, flayed her besides and cut off her ears, lips, tongue,
and slit the nose of Artaynta, her daughter."

"Cheerful lady! She ought to have been zu Pfeiffer's wife," commented
Birnier and went to sleep.

Birnier arose feeling rational enough to reconsider his position. The
recollection of the signature on the photograph now failed to stimulate
the emotional reaction as once it had done. The experience through which
he had passed had had a beneficial effect in breaking or disconnecting the
train of suggestive images. At first in the recess of his mind had lurked
the desire to abandon everything, to rush straight to Lucille to demand an
explanation. Now the rising sun of reason cast quite different shadows
upon the incident. The high light was the fact that should he do so he
would be sacrificing his mission for what might prove to be ridiculous. As
his mind contemplated the subject the echo of "a toi, Lucille" tended to
carry a high note, but this he vented by writing a long letter to Lucille
recounting the facts and frankly admitting that he had been sufficiently
insane with jealousy to "go up in the air." Once or twice he ceased to
write and gazed anxiously into the glare as his imagination suggested the
long period of waiting for an answer, wondering whether the echo of that
cursed "a toi" might not become unbearably shrill. He became a little more
sentimental towards the end of the letter, remarking that perhaps he had
been wrong in deserting her for so long and emphasising the rather
ridiculous point that he was aware that he was not a young man. However,
he let it remain, and at the first opportunity sent off the letter by
runner to the nearest station in Uganda, together with an order for
certain goods to be sent to a village on the Wongolo border.

Although still inclined to be emotional over the photograph, Birnier did
not waste any energy over v