“We must go.”
“Well, I found her at last. If you’ll believe me, she was looking into a mouse hole with her tip bitten off—rape of the Sabines, what? Of course she’s disfigured for life; my big toe is frankly naked now when I wear Heloïse, but Abelard still loves her. You’d expect him to philander now with one of Lucy’s pumps, but——”
“Come—Stone.”
“I am forced to the conclusion that Edward doesn’t love me. Most people do, really they do, Edward. Please enroll yourself with the majority.” He came over and took both Edward’s reluctant hands in his. His voice became richer. “Old man, old man, I know you’re going through hell. Don’t think I’m unsympathetic and flippant. Listen. I want to have a long talk with you. I can tell you a lot of things about Emily that will interest you. We’ll go down to Chungking together. Nobody can go on long refusing to be friends with me, can they, Stone, old man?” He released Edward and hugged Stone again.
“Aw, let’s go,” said Stone.
As they filed along the verandah a dreadful picture of the visit came into Edward’s mind. A picture of two despicable creatures, a dirty gum-chewing schoolboy and a spotty-faced dentist’s assistant arriving on a futile and ridiculous errand and being met and easily dismissed by a competent man of the world in grey flannel trousers and a tweed coat—so competent that he was not embarrassed by a five days’ growth of beard.
Edward wanted to hear the “things about Emily.” But he wanted still more to hurt and irritate Tam. So he would not walk down to the river. He sat sullenly in his chair. The chair-bearers ran down miles of steep steps with loud triumphant cries. The chair tilted so acutely forward that Edward had to cling to its arms. He stared down on to a strange chart of towns and river. Now and then the chairmen would put the chair down and wait for Tam and Stone who were walking. Then, in the distance, Tam’s voice could be heard coming nearer, saying something like, “Well, I used to smoke Lucky Strike in California, but only as a substitute. I have a very sensitive palate ...” or, “My finger nails grow so fast in this damp climate. I have to get Lucy to cut them. Do you know, Stone, I’d rather run a mile than cut the nails of my right hand....”
There was no sound from Stone. Sometimes Tam laughed very loudly—stood in the path and rocked with laughter—but the joke was apparently not Stone’s.
“But this is not the way to the ship?” said Edward to the chairmen as they set him down on the edge of the river half a mile below the ship. The four men, not understanding, laughed happily.
Tam and Stone arrived. “I asked. The ship doesn’t leave till tomorrow morning. You must come and seek adventures with me in Chungking. If we’re killed, the English and American governments will have a glorious time registering protests. Funny, they don’t seem to care a damn for us until we die. I loathe diplomats, don’t you? They’re always too clean for words; they wash eighteen times a day behind their ears, I believe.”