y. And
presently he mentioned that he had written for some jewellery, real good
jewellery--had written to Hong-Kong for it. It would arrive in a day or
two.

"Well, then," I said cheerily, "everything is all right. All you've got
to do is to present it to the lady together with your heart, and live
happy ever after."

Upon the whole he seemed to accept that view as far as the girl was
concerned, but his eyelids drooped. There was still something in the
way. For one thing Hermann disliked him so much. As to me, on the
contrary, it seemed as though he could not praise me enough. Mrs.
Hermann too. He didn't know why they disliked him so. It made everything
most difficult.

I listened impassive, feeling more and more diplomatic. His speech was
not transparently clear. He was one of those men who seem to live, feel,
suffer in a sort of mental twilight. But as to being fascinated by the
girl and possessed by the desire of home life with her--it was as clear
as daylight. So much being at stake, he was afraid of putting it to
the hazard of declaration. Besides, there was something else. And with
Hermann being so set against him...

"I see," I said thoughtfully, while my heart beat fast with the
excitement of my diplomacy. "I don't mind sounding Hermann. In fact, to
show you how mistaken you were, I am ready to do all I can for you in
that way."

A light sigh escaped him. He drew his hands down his face, and it
emerged, bony, unchanged of expression, as if all the tissues had
been ossified. All the passion was in those big brown hands. He was
satisfied. Then there was that other matter. If there were anybody on
earth it was I who could persuade Hermann to take a reasonable view! I
had a knowledge of the world and lots of experience. Hermann admitted
this himself. And then I was a sailor too. Falk thought that a sailor
would be able to understand certain things best....

He talked as if the Hermanns had been living all their life in a rural
hamlet, and I alone had been capable, with my practice in life, of
a large and indulgent view of certain occurrences. That was what my
diplomacy was leading me to. I began suddenly to dislike it.

"I say, Falk," I asked quite brusquely, "you haven't already a wife put
away somewhere?"

The pain and disgust of his denial were very striking. Couldn't I
understand that he was as respectable as any white man hereabouts;
earning his living honestly. He was suffering from my suspicion, an