“Yes.”
“Oh, thank God!” He heard her wildly sobbing again.
“Have you been expecting Captain Utterbourne a long time?”
“August,” she faltered, “—then in February. It’s over a year—two long months over a year.... Since coming to live in the temple, I’ve lost all count of the days. Is this Friday?”
“No, Thursday, Stella.”
“Thursday,” she murmured after him, her voice strained and colourless. Then she clasped her hands suddenly and asked in tones verging upon shrillness: “How did you find your way, Jerome?”
“They told us you were dead.”
“Dead?” It was a repetition choked with bewilderment.
“When we came ashore the Japanese met us—”