insisted. "But it stands to reason that,
here on Naapu, she's learned a good many things they don't teach in
little red schoolhouses. I have a great respect for her, and, between
you and me, I shouldn't wonder if she had sized Schneider up already."

The eyes were appeased. "Maybe, maybe," he grunted. "But lies come easy
to him, I guess. Miss Eva wouldn't be the first he'd fooled."

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Not a thing, except what sticks out all over him. For a man's eyes,
that is. You never can tell what a woman will see."

I left him poking in the dust with his spanner.

I dined that night at Lockerbie's. There was no Mrs. Lockerbie, and it
was a man's party. Follet was there, of course, and Schneider, too, his
teeth and his clothes whiter than the rest of ours. I was surprised to
see Schneider, for Lockerbie had suspected the Teuton of designs on his
very privately and not too authentically owned lagoon. Lockerbie did a
fair business in pearls; no great beauties or values among them, but a
good marketable cheap product. But no one held out very long against any
one on Naapu.

Schneider was drunk before he ever got to Lockerbie's that night. It was
part of the Naapu ritual not to drink just before you reached your
host's house, and that ritual, it soon became evident, Schneider had not
observed. I saw Lockerbie scowl, and Follet wince, and some of the
others stare. I could not help being amused, for I knew that no one
would object to his being in that condition an hour later. The only
point was that he should not have arrived like that. If Schneider had
had anything resembling a skin, he would have felt about as comfortable
as Mother Eve at a woman's club. Lockerbie's scowl was no joke; and
Follet had a way of wriggling his backbone gracefully.--It was up to me
to save Schneider, and I did. The honor of Naapu was nothing to me; and
by dint of almost embracing him, I made myself a kind of absorbent for
his worst breaks. It was not a pleasant hour for me before the rest
began to loosen up.

In my eagerness to prevent Lockerbie from insulting his guest, I drank
nothing, myself, after the first cocktail. So it came to pass that by
the time I could safely leave Schneider to the others, I found myself
unwontedly incarnating the spirit of criticism.

They were a motley crowd, coalesced for the moment into a vinous
solidarity. Follet spat his words out very sweetly; his poisonous grace
grew on him in his