sband looked across the room interestedly. "Why do you say that?"

"I am a woman."

"That phrase is the City of Refuge. All women fly to it when
confronted by something they do not understand."

"Oh, but I do understand. And that's the pity of it."

XIV

ACCORDING TO THE RULES

Elsa sought the hotel rickshaw-stand, selected a sturdy coolie, and
asked to be run to the botanical gardens and back. She wanted to be
alone, wanted breathing-space, wanted the breeze to cool her hot
cheeks. For she was angry at the world, angry at the gentle
consul-general, above all, angry at herself. To have laid herself open
to the charge of indiscretion! To have received a lecture, however
kindly intended, from the man she loved and respected next to her
father! To know that persons were exchanging nods and whispers behind
her back!

It was a detestable world. It was folly to be honest, to be kind, to
be individual, to have likes and dislikes, unless these might be
regulated by outsiders. Why should she care what people said? She did
not care. What made her furious was the absolute stupidity of their
deductions. She had not been indiscreet; she had been merely kindly
and human; and if they wanted to twist and misconstrue her actions, let
them do so.

She hated the word "people." It seemed to signify all the useless
inefficient persons in the world, massed together after the manner of
sheep and cattle, stupidest of beasts, always wanting something and
never knowing what; not an individual among them. And they expected
her to conform with their ways! Was it necessary for her to tell these
meddlers why she had sought the companionship of a self-admitted
malefactor? . . . Oh, that could not be! If evil were to be found in
such a man, then there was no good anywhere. What was one misstep?
Was it not written that all of us should make one or more? And surely
this man had expiated his. Ten years in this wilderness, ten long
lonely years. How many men would have stood up against the temptations
of this exile? Few, if any, among the men she knew. And they
criticized her because she was sorry for the man. Must she say to
them: "Dear people, I spoke to this man and engaged his companionship
because I was sorry for him; because he looked exactly like the man I
have promised to marry!" It was ridiculous. She laughed. The dear
people!

Once or twice she saw inwardly the will-o'-the-wisp lights of her soul.
B