er. Everybody knew everybody's
business. Lovaina suddenly bethought herself of a richer morsel of
gossip. She struck her forehead.

"My God! how long you been? You not meet that rich uncle of David
from America? You not hear about that turribil thing?"

She was on the point of beginning her narrative when the telephone
rang, and she was called away. I knew I would catch the before-dinner
groups at the Cercle Bougainville, and walked there, waving my hand or
speaking to a dozen acquaintances on the route. I climbed the steep
stairs, and at the first table saw Fung Wah, a Chinese immigrant
importer and pearl merchant, with Lying Bill, McHenry, Hallman, and
Landers, the latter only recently back from Auckland. I was immediately
aware of the sad contrast with Tautira. The club-room looked mean
and tawdry after so many weeks among the cocoas and breadfruits; the
floor, tables, and chairs ugly compared with the grass, the puraus,
the roses, and the gardenias, the endearing environment of that
lovely village. The white men before me had as hard, unsympathetic
faces as the Asiatic, who was reputed to deal in opium as well as
men and women and jewels.

Yet their welcoming shout of fellowship was pleasant, despite a
note of derision for my staying so long away from the fleshpots of
Papeete. Pincher and McHenry were themselves lately arrived, but
evidently had learned of my absence from Lovaina.

"What did you do? Buy a vanilla plantation?" asked McHenry.

"Vanilla, hell!" said Hallman, whose harp had one string, "he's been
having his pick of country produce."

Lying Bill said:

"Well, you'd better pack your chest for the northern islands to-morrow
if you're goin' with the Fetia Taiao. We'11 be off for Atuona and
Hallman's tribe of cannibals nex' mornin'."

I sat down and quaffed a Doctor Funk, and then inquired idly:

"Where's David?"

"David!" said Hallman. "For God's sake! don't dig into any graves!"

"'E's a proper ghoul, 'e is," Lying Bill said sarcastically. "'E
thinks you're a mejum!"

They all stared at me as if I were crazy, and I felt myself in an
atmosphere of mystery, in which I had broached a distasteful subject. I
wondered what it could be, but determined to know at all hazards,
reckoning on no fine feelings to hurt.

"What is the secret?" I asked. "I've been away a few months, and
haven't heard the news. Has David run off with Miri or Caroline?"

Was this what Lovaina was bursting with?

They all