came into the sitting-room Guy was taking the rackets out of the press, for they played tennis in the short cool of the evening. The night fell-at six.
The tennis-court was two or three hundred yards from the bungalow and after tea, anxious not to lose time, they strolled down to it.
’Oh, look,’ said Doris, ’there’s that girl that I saw this morning.)
Guy turned quickly. His eyes rested for a moment on a native woman, but he could not speak
’What a pretty sarong she’s got’ said Doris. ’I wonder -where it comes from!
They passed her. -She was slight and small, with the large, dark, starry eyes of her race and a mass of raven hair. She did not stir as they went by but stared at them strangely. Doris saw then that she -was not quite so young as she had at first thought. Her features -were a trifle heavy and her skin was dark, but she was very pretty. She held a small child in her arms. Doris smiled a little as she saw it, but no answering smile moved the woman’s lips. Her face remained impassive. She did not look at Guy, she looked only at Doris, and he -walked on as though he did not see her. Doris turned to him.
’Isn’t that baby a duck?” ’I didn’t notice.’
She was puzzled by the look of his face. It was deathly white, and the pimples which not a little distressed her -were more than commonly red.
Did you notice her hands and feet? She might be a duchess.’ ’All natives have good hands and feet,’ he answered, but not jovially as was his wont; it -was as though he forced himself to speak.
But Doris was intrigued. ’Who is she, d’you know?’
’She’s one of the girls in the kampong.’
They had reached the court now. When Guy -went up to the net to see that it was taut he looked back. The girl was still standing -where they had passed her. Their eyes met.
’Shall I serve?’ said Doris, -
’Yes, you’ve got the balls on your side.’