damned fools? Seriously, Hewet, I advise you to give up literature.
What's the good of it? There's your audience."

He nodded his head at the tables where a very miscellaneous collection
of Europeans were now engaged in eating, in some cases in gnawing, the
stringy foreign fowls. Hewet looked, and grew more out of temper than
ever. Hirst looked too. His eyes fell upon Rachel, and he bowed to her.

"I rather think Rachel's in love with me," he remarked, as his eyes
returned to his plate. "That's the worst of friendships with young
women--they tend to fall in love with one."

To that Hewet made no answer whatever, and sat singularly still. Hirst
did not seem to mind getting no answer, for he returned to Mr. Bax
again, quoting the peroration about the drop of water; and when Hewet
scarcely replied to these remarks either, he merely pursed his lips,
chose a fig, and relapsed quite contentedly into his own thoughts, of
which he always had a very large supply. When luncheon was over they
separated, taking their cups of coffee to different parts of the hall.

From his chair beneath the palm-tree Hewet saw Rachel come out of the
dining-room with the Flushings; he saw them look round for chairs, and
choose three in a corner where they could go on talking in private. Mr.
Flushing was now in the full tide of his discourse. He produced a sheet
of paper upon which he made drawings as he went on with his talk. He saw
Rachel lean over and look, pointing to this and that with her finger.
Hewet unkindly compared Mr. Flushing, who was extremely well dressed for
a hot climate, and rather elaborate in his manner, to a very persuasive
shop-keeper. Meanwhile, as he sat looking at them, he was entangled in
the Thornburys and Miss Allan, who, after hovering about for a minute
or two, settled in chairs round him, holding their cups in their hands.
They wanted to know whether he could tell them anything about Mr. Bax.
Mr. Thornbury as usual sat saying nothing, looking vaguely ahead of him,
occasionally raising his eye-glasses, as if to put them on, but always
thinking better of it at the last moment, and letting them fall again.
After some discussion, the ladies put it beyond a doubt that Mr. Bax was
not the son of Mr. William Bax. There was a pause. Then Mrs. Thornbury
remarked that she was still in the habit of saying Queen instead of
King in the National Anthem. There was another pause. Then Miss Allan
observed reflectively that going to c