ettled down. There you have
it. I'm in search of happiness. That's the Valley of Diamonds. When
I find that, Martha, you may fold your hands in peace."

"Grant it may be soon! I hate the East!

"And I have just begun to love it."

V

BACK TO LIFE

The two days between Prome and Rangoon were distinctly memorable for
the subtle changes wrought in the man and woman. Those graces of mind
and manner which had once been the man's, began to find expression.
Physically, his voice became soft and mellow; his hands became full of
emphasis; his body grew less and less clumsy, more and more leonine.
It has taken centuries and centuries to make the white man what he is
to-day; yet, a single year of misfortune may throw him back into the
primordial. For it is far easier to retrograde than to go forward,
easier to let the world go by than to march along with it. Had he been
less interested in Elsa and more concerned about his rehabilitation,
self-analysis would have astonished Warrington. The blunt speech, the
irritability in argument, the stupid pauses, the painful study of
cunning phrases, the suspicion and reticence that figuratively encrust
the hearts of shy and lonely men, these vanished under her warm if
careless glances. For the first time in ten years a woman of the right
sort was showing interest in him. True, there had been other women,
but these had served only to make him retreat farther into his shell.

If the crust of barbarism is thick, that of civilization is thin
enough. As Warrington went forward, Elsa stopped, and gradually went
back, not far, but far enough to cause her to throw down the bars of
reserve, to cease to guard her impulses against the invasion of
interest and fascination. She faced the truth squarely, without
palter. The man fascinated her. He was like a portrait with following
eyes. She spoke familiarly of her affairs (always omitting Arthur);
she talked of her travels, of the famous people she had met, of the
wonderful pageants she had witnessed. And she secretly laughed at
reproachful conscience that urged her to recall one of those laws Elsa
herself had written down to follow: that which forbade a young
unmarried woman to seek the companionship of a man about whom she knew
nothing. It was not her fault that, with the exception of Martha who
didn't count, they two were the only passengers. This condition of
affairs was directly chargeable to fate; and before the boat r