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Updated: May 5, 2025
Miss Eva wouldn't be the first he'd fooled." "Do you know anything about him?" "Not a thing, except what sticks out all over him. For a man's eyes, that is. You never can tell what a woman will see." I left him poking in the dust with his spanner. I dined that night at Lockerbie's. There was no Mrs. Lockerbie, and it was a man's party.
I could not help being amused, for I knew that no one would object to his being in that condition an hour later. The only point was that he should not have arrived like that. If Schneider had had anything resembling a skin, he would have felt about as comfortable as Mother Eve at a woman's club. Lockerbie's scowl was no joke; and Follet had a way of wriggling his backbone gracefully.
When we reached the hotel, Ching Po surged up out of the black veranda and crooked his arm for Schneider to lean upon. They passed into the building, silently, like old friends. A stupid indisposition housed me for a little after Lockerbie's feast.
But no one held out very long against any one on Naapu. Schneider was drunk before he ever got to Lockerbie's that night. It was part of the Naapu ritual not to drink just before you reached your host's house, and that ritual, it soon became evident, Schneider had not observed. I saw Lockerbie scowl, and Follet wince, and some of the others stare.
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