been given
a fresh start. There's no evil. The apple's back on the tree of
knowledge. Eden's come back--and it's spring in Eden."

"And among other items," says I, "that we've invoiced for Sydney is a
python thirty feet long."

"Look!" says she.

A girl sat against one of the stems of a banyan, and a Tommy lay on his
back with his head in her lap. She was playing with his hair. You could
just see them for the dark.

"'And they lived on the square like a true married pair,'" says I.

"Can't people be naughty and good?" says she.

"No," says I; "good and naughty only."

"Suppose," says she, "you and I felt about each other the way we do, but
you were married to a rich widow in Lisbon and I was married to a wicked
old Jew in Malta--would that make you Satan and me Jezebel?"

"No," says I; "only me. Nothing could change you." She thought a little.

"No," says she; "I don't think anything could. But there isn't any
wicked old Jew. You know that."

"And you know about the rich widow?"

"What about her?" This said sharp, with a tug at my arm to unwrap it.

"She was born in Singapore," said I, "of a silly goose by an idle
thought. And two minutes later she died."

"There's nothing that can ever hurt us--is there?--nothing that's
happened and gone before?"

Man that is born of woman ought not to have that question put up to him;
but she didn't let me answer.

"Because, if there is," she said, "it's lucky I'm here to look after
us."

"Could I do anything that you wouldn't forgive?"

"If you turned away from me," she said, "I'd die--but I'd forgive."

Next daylight she was leaning on the rail of the _Boldero_ watching the
animals come over the side and laughing to see them turn their heads to
listen to what old Yir Massir said to them in Hindustani. He spoke words
of comfort, telling them not to be afraid; and they listened. Even
Bahut, the big elephant, as the slings tightened and he swung dizzily
heavenward, cocked his moth-eaten ears to listen and refrained from
whimpering, though the pit of his stomach was cold with fear; and he
worked his toes when there was nothing under them but water.

"The elephant is the strongest of all things," I said, "and the most
gentle."

Her little fingers pressed my arm, which was like marble in those days.

"No," said she--"the man!"

III

That voyage was good, so far as it went, but there's no use talking
about it, because what came afterward was better. We'd no