“I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. Even Ah Cum had resumed his Oriental shell of reserve. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. Your boyfriend. She did not resist him, she could not. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. Jeremiah Jackson and Mr. Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. But no more of that. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley.
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