“Charlie,” said Sally Jordan.
“Yes, Miss Sally.” He turned, smiling, to face her.
“What was that you said about the burden dropping from your shoulders? The delectable thud?”
“Now vacation begins,” he said. “All my life I have unlimited yearning to face the wonders of this mainland. Moment are now at hand. Care-free and happy, not like crossing on ship. There all time pearls rest heavy on stomach, most undigestible, like sour rice. Not so now.”
Madame Jordan shook her head. “I’m sorry, Charlie,” she said. “I’m going to ask you to eat one more bowl of sour rice. For me—for auld lang syne.”
“I do not quite grasp meaning,” he told her.
She outlined the plan to send him with Bob Eden to the desert. His expression did not change.
“I will go,” he promised gravely.
“Thank you, Charlie,” said Sally Jordan softly.
“In my youth,” he continued, “I am house-boy in the Phillimore mansion. Still in my heart like old-time garden bloom memories of kindness never to be repaid.” He saw Sally Jordan’s eyes bright and shining with tears. “Life would be dreary waste,” he finished, “if there was no thing called loyalty.”
Very flowery, thought Alexander Eden. He sought to introduce a more practical note. “All your expenses will be paid, of course. And that vacation is just postponed for a few days. You’d better carry the pearls—you have the belt, and besides, no one knows your connection with the affair. Thank heaven for that.”
“I will carry them,” Chan agreed. He took up the string from the table. “Miss Sally, toss all worry out of mind. When this young man and I encounter proper person,
