He nodded.
"It was superb romance." The brown eyes deepened. "I shall always remember that story of Humayun and Kurnavati—and remember you for explaining it to me."
Silence of a few seconds followed. Then Trent ventured:
"I daresay I sha'n't see you again before I go. I sail to-morrow noon."
"Really? I'm sailing then, too. I suppose you're going back to England?"
"No. I"—he hesitated—"I'm bound for Burma."
She laughed, a bit tremulously—that laugh of soft monsoon showers.
"Why, so am I. Surely you're not booked on the Manchester?"
The face that was turned to her, faintly bronze in the street-lights, was impassive enough; his only expression was of mild, polite surprise.
"Yes—on the Manchester."