“Quinine!” Judy exclaimed.
“It’s for Burma.”
“Oh! You are a public benefactor! What a wonderful privilege, to fly half way round the world to bring health back to hundreds of our boys!”
“It has its drawbacks,” Mary spoke slowly.
“How do you mean?”
“Let me tell you later. Just now I’d like to sit back and enjoy the sights.”
“Do that. I’ll say never a word.”
For a full half hour after that they wound in and out, from one gorgeous scene to another in a world’s paradise. Beautiful residences set back among tropical trees, little gardens where oranges and lemons clung to branches like spheres of gold, narrow arched bridges over which they glided—all these delighted Mary’s eyes.
The people were strange. Some were faultlessly dressed Europeans, some dark-robed Mohammedans, and some the slender, olive-complexioned Hindus. But all, even the children, seemed bright, well-fed, and gay.
“Why this is a golden paradise!” Mary exclaimed. “I never dreamed that India could be like this!”