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for? ”
    “ We ’ re strangers, ” she reminded him. “ How would I know? ”
    “ That ’ s so—how would you? If you find Roger Payn attractive you aren ’ t likely to know much about my sort. ” He lay back in his favorite attitude, with one hand under his head and his knees tented. “ Did you kiss him goodbye when he left England? ”
    “ Yes, ” she said. “ I did. ”
    “ All right, you don ’ t have to be belligerent about it . It ’ s very sweet. ”
    “ Don ’ t sneer. I hate that tone in your voice. ”
    “ Oh, come now! You haven ’ t the right to hate any tone I might decide to use. What sort of kiss was it? ”
    “ Really! ”
    “ Can ’ t you distinguish one kind from another? Did you cling to him and smile at him through tears, give him something fairly fierce to remember, or merely peck at the chap? For your own sake, you ought to try and recall it. ”
    “ Oh, be quiet! ”
    He laughed briefly. “ Are you embarrassed? ”
    “ You meant me to be. Supposing I put that sort of question to you? ”
    “ You want to know how I kissed Astrid when we said goodbye ? ”
    “ No. No, I don ’ t! I just want you to shut up. ”
    “ That ’ s because you ’ re a coward. You ’ re not a bit sure how you feel about Roger now that he ’ s near, and if possible you want to start all over again with him. Only you won ’ t be able to, little one. If he ’ s been faithful to you—and I should say he has—he ’ ll expect you to fall into his arms. Are you ready for it? ”
    “ I ’ ll decide when I get there. ”
    “ But you ’ ve been thinking dreamily about him on the way over? ” He didn ’ t wait for an answer, but commented with thoughtful mockery, “ Funny that you should go for someone fair, too. But you ’ re fairish yourself, when your hair is normal. I noticed it on the steamer. ”
    “ And I noticed that you were dark and supercilious. ”
    “ But I ’ m awfully kind as well, ” he rallied her. “ You ’ ve said so yourself. ”
    There was a silence, which stretched on for some minutes. Then, eerily, there came a splashing sound and Terry sat up almost as precipitately as Pete did. A crocodile was climbing from the water, its gargantuan, teeth-filled jaws open about an inch in a murderous grin. It stopped, and its disgusting little eyes stared straight at Terry. Hypnotized, she watched those eyes become distended, so that they stood out like glutinous stalks. Water dripped from the scaly grey back, the little feet splayed over the mud and dug in as the creature moved forward.
    Faintingly, she remembered reading about a Malayan crocodile that had killed grown men simply by fastening its jaws on the shoulder and whipping its tail round the body, to break the back. And this one was advancing, was no more than six feet from her legs; and Pete was a yard away on her other side, beyond the fire. She closed her eyes tightly, dug her nails into her palms and somehow kept perfe c tly still. She heard the dragging sound again, the great body coming near enough to be able to snap at her, and sweat ran in rivulets down her face and the whole of her body.
    Then, suddenly, Pete moved. He snatched up the wet towel, grabbed the hot fire ashes and cast them straight at those horrible eyes. The next moment he had leapt across Terry and was slashing with the parang at the crocodile ’ s gullet. The tussle lasted no more than thirty seconds. The dead crocodile slipped sideways in the water, a scarlet stain spread and became muddy as the body sank. Pete dipped his hands to clean them, turned back swiftly and knelt beside Terry.
    She had turned on her side, with her face pressed hard against her fists, and her limbs shook uncontrollably. He touched her shoulder.
    “ It ’ s gone. Don ’ t let go, there ’ s a good girl. ”
    But her nerve had snapped. She stayed there, trembling as if with a tropical chill. Pete got right down and lifted her, put both his arms round her and held her