It was cruel.
It was not her fault if she did not love him.
She couldn't bear the thought that he should kill himself for her sake. Tears flowed softly down her cheeks.
"What are you crying for?" His voice was cold.
"You're not obliged to go, are you?"
"No, I go of my own free will."
"Please don't, Walter.
It would be too awful if something happened.
Supposing you died?"
Though his face remained impassive the shadow of a smile once more crossed his eyes.
He did not answer.
"Where is this place?" she asked after a pause.
"Mei-Tan-Fu?
It's on a tributary of the Western River.
We should go up the Western River and then by chair."
"Who is we?"
"You and I."
She looked at him quickly.
She thought she had heard amiss.
But now the smile in his eyes had travelled to his lips.
His dark eyes were fixed on her.
"Are you expecting me to come too?"
"I thought you'd like to."
Her breath began to come very fast.
A shudder passed through her.
"But surely it's no place for a woman.
The missionary sent his wife and children down weeks ago and the A.P.C. man and his wife came down.
I met her at a tea-party.
I've just remembered that she said they left some place on account of cholera."
"There are five French nuns there."
Panic seized her.
"I don't know what you mean.
It would be madness for me to go.
You know how delicate I am.
Dr. Hayward said I must get out of Hong Kong on account of the heat.
I could never stand the heat up there.
And cholera: I should be frightened out of my wits.
It's just asking for trouble.
There's no reason for me to go.
I should die."
He did not answer.
She looked at him in her desperation and she could hardly restrain a cry. His face had a sort of black pallor which suddenly terrified her.
She saw in it a look of hatred.
Was it possible that he wanted her to die?
She answered her own outrageous thought.
"It's absurd.
If you think you ought to go it's your own lookout.
But really you can't expect me to.
I hate illness.
A cholera epidemic.