It has been a curious evening.
The only costume that fitted me in the barber’s emporium was that of aTeddy Bear. I don’t mind playing bears with some nice young girls on awinter’s evening in England—but it’s hardly an ideal costume for the equator.
However, I created a good deal of merriment, and won first prize for “broughtonboard”— an absurd term for a costume hired for the evening. Still, asnobody seemed to have the least idea whether they were made or brought, itdidn’t matter.
Mrs. Blair refused to dress up. Apparently1 she is at one with Pagett on thematter. Colonel Race followed her example. Anne Beddingfeld had concocteda gipsy costume for herself, and looked extraordinarily2 well. Pagett said hehad a headache and didn’t appear. To replace him I asked a quaint3 little fel-low called Reeves. He’s a prominent member of the South African labourparty. Horrible little man, but I want to keep in with him, as he gives me in-formation that I need. I want to understand this Rand business from bothsides.
Dancing was a hot affair. I danced twice with Anne Beddingfeld and shehad to pretend she liked it. I danced once with Mrs. Blair, who didn’t troubleto pretend, and I victimized various other damsels whose appearance struckme favourably4.
Then we went down to supper. I had ordered champagne5; the steward6 sug-gested Clicquot 1911 as being the best they had on the boat and I fell in with hissuggestion. I seemed to have hit on the one thing that would loosen ColonelRace’s tongue. Far from being taciturn, the man became actually talkative.
For a while this amused me, then it occurred to me that Colonel Race, and notmyself, was becoming the life and soul of the party. He chaffed me at lengthabout keeping a diary.
“It will reveal all your indiscretions one of these days, Pedler.”
“My dear Race,” I said, “I venture to suggest that I am not quite the fool youthink me. I may commit indiscretions, but I don’t write them down in blackand white. After my death, my executors will know my opinion of a greatmany people, but I doubt if they will find anything to add or detract from theiropinion of me. A diary is useful for recording7 the idiosyncrasies of otherpeople—but not one’s own.”
“There is such a thing as unconscious self-revelation, though.”
“In the eyes of the psychoanalyst, all things are vile,” I replied senten-tiously.
“You must have had a very interesting life, Colonel Race?” said Miss Bed-dingfeld, gazing at him with wide, starry8 eyes.
That’s how they do it, these girls! Othello charmed Desdemona by telling herstories, but, oh, didn’t Desdemona charm Othello by the way she listened?
Anyway, the girl set Race off all right. He began to tell lion stories. A manwho has shot lions in large quantities has an unfair advantage over othermen. It seemed to me that it was time I, too, told a lion story. One of a moresprightly character.
“By the way,” I remarked, “that reminds me of a rather exciting tale Iheard. A friend of mine was out on a shooting trip somewhere in East Africa.
One night he came out of his tent for some reason, and was startled by a lowgrowl. He turned sharply and saw a lion crouching9 to spring. He had left hisrifle in the tent. Quick as thought, he ducked, and the lion sprang right overhis head. Annoyed at having missed him, the animal growled10 and prepared tospring again. Again he ducked, and again the lion sprang right over him. Thishappened a third time, but by now he was close to the entrance of his tent, andhe darted11 in and seized his rifle. When he emerged, rifle in hand, the lion haddisappeared. That puzzled him greatly. He crept round the back of the tent,where there was a little clearing. There, sure enough, was the lion, busilypractising low jumps.”
This was received by a roar of applause. I drank some champagne.
“On another occasion,” I remarked, “this friend of mine had a second curi-ous experience. He was trekking12 across country, and being anxious to arriveat his destination before the heat of the day he ordered his boys to inspanwhilst it was still dark. They had some trouble in doing so, as the mules14 werevery restive15, but at last they managed it, and a start was made. The mulesraced along like the wind, and when daylight came they saw why. In the dark-ness, the boys had inspanned a lion as the near wheeler.”
This, too, was well-received, a ripple16 of merriment going round the table,but I am not sure that the greatest tribute did not come from my friend the La-bour Member, who remained pale and serious.
“My God!” he said anxiously. “Who un’arnessed them?”
“I must go to Rhodesia,” said Mrs. Blair. “After what you have told us, Col-onel Race, I simply must. It’s a horrible journey though, five days in thetrain.”
“You must join me in my private car,” I said gallantly17.
“Oh, Sir Eustace, how sweet of you! Do you really mean it?”
“Do I mean it!” I exclaimed reproachfully, and drank another glass ofchampagne.
“Just about another week, and we shall be in South Africa,” sighed Mrs.
Blair.
“Ah, South Africa,” I said sentimentally18, and began to quote from a recentspeech of mine at the Colonial Institute. “What has South Africa to show theworld? What indeed? Her fruit and her farms, her wool and her wattles, herherds and her hides, her gold mines and her diamonds—”
I was hurrying on, because I knew that as soon as I paused Reeves wouldbutt in and inform me that the hides were worthless because the animals hungthemselves up on barbed wire or something of that sort, would crab19 everythingelse, and end up with the hardships of the miners on the Rand. And I was notin the mood to be abused as a Capitalist. However, the interruption camefrom another source at the magic word diamonds.
“Diamonds!” said Mrs. Blair ecstatically.
“Diamonds!” breathed Miss Beddingfeld.
They both addressed Colonel Race.
“I suppose you’ve been to Kimberley?”
I had been to Kimberley too, but I didn’t manage to say so in time. Race wasbeing inundated20 with questions. What were mines like? Was it true that thenatives were kept shut up in compounds? And so on.
Race answered their questions and showed a good knowledge of his subject.
He described the methods of housing the natives, the searches instituted, andthe various precautions that De Beers took.
“Then it’s practically impossible to steal any diamonds?” asked Mrs. Blairwith as keen an air of disappointment as though she had been journeyingthere for the express purpose.
“Nothing’s impossible, Mrs. Blair. Thefts do occur—like the case I told youof where the Kafir hid the stone in his wound.”
“Yes, but on a large scale?”
“Once, in recent years. Just before the War, in fact. You must remember thecase, Pedler. You were in South Africa at the time?”
I nodded.
“Tell us,” cried Miss Beddingfeld. “Oh, do tell us!”
Race smiled.
“Very well, you shall have the story. I suppose most of you have heard of SirLaurence Eardsley, the great South African mining magnate? His mines weregold mines, but he comes into the story through his son. You may rememberthat just before the War rumours21 were afield of a new potential Kimberleyhidden somewhere in the rocky floor of the British Guiana jungles. Two youngexplorers, so it was reported, had returned from that part of South Americabringing with them a remarkable22 collection of rough diamonds, some of themof considerable size. Diamonds of small size had been found before in theneighbourhood of the Essequibo and Mazaruni rivers, but these two youngmen, John Eardsley and his friend Lucas, claimed to have discovered beds ofgreat carbon deposits at the common head of two streams. The diamonds wereof every colour, pink, blue, yellow, green, black, and the purest white. Eards-ley and Lucas came to Kimberley, where they were to submit their gems23 to in-spection. At the same time a sensational24 robbery was found to have takenplace at De Beers. When sending diamonds to England they are made up intoa packet. This remains25 in the big safe, of which the two keys are held by twodifferent men whilst a third man knows the combination. They are handed tothe Bank, and the Bank send them to England. Each package is worth,roughly, about ?100,000.
“On this occasion the Bank were struck by something a little unusual aboutthe sealing of the packet. It was opened, and found to contain knobs of sugar!
“Exactly how suspicion came to fasten on John Eardsley I do not know. Itwas remembered that he had been very wild at Cambridge and that his fatherhad paid his debts more than once. Anyhow, it soon got about that this storyof South American diamond fields was all a fantasy. John Eardsley was arres-ted. In his possession was found a portion of the De Beers diamonds.
“But the case never came to court. Sir Laurence Eardsley paid over a sumequal to the missing diamonds, and De Beers did not prosecute26. Exactly howthe robbery was committed has never been known. But the knowledge that hisson was a thief broke the old man’s heart. He had a stroke shortly afterwards.
As for John, his Fate was in a way merciful. He enlisted27, went to the War,fought there bravely, and was killed, thus wiping out the stain on his name.
Sir Laurence himself had a third stroke and died about a month ago. He diedintestate and his vast fortune passed to his next of kin13, a man whom he hardlyknew.”
The Colonel paused. A babel of ejaculations and questions broke out. Some-thing seemed to attract Miss Beddingfeld’s attention, and she turned in herchair. At the little gasp28 she gave, I, too, turned.
My new secretary, Rayburn, was standing29 in the doorway30. Under his tan,his face had the pallor of one who has seen a ghost. Evidently Race’s story hadmoved him profoundly.
Suddenly conscious of our scrutiny31, he turned abruptly32 and disappeared.
“Do you know who that is?” asked Anne Beddingfeld abruptly.
“That’s my other secretary,” I explained. “Mr. Rayburn. He’s been seedy upto now.”
She toyed with the bread by her plate.
“Has he been your secretary long?”
“Not very long,” I said cautiously.
But caution is useless with a woman, the more you hold back, the more shepresses forward. Anne Beddingfeld made no bones about it.
“How long?” she asked bluntly.
“Well—er—I engaged him just before I sailed. Old friend of mine recommen-ded him.”
She said nothing more, but relapsed into a thoughtful silence. I turned toRace with the feeling that it was my turn to display an interest in his story.
“Who is Sir Laurence’s next of kin, Race? Do you know?”
“I should do so,” he replied, with a smile. “I am!”

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1
apparently
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adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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2
extraordinarily
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adv.格外地;极端地 | |
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quaint
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adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
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4
favourably
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adv. 善意地,赞成地 =favorably | |
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5
champagne
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n.香槟酒;微黄色 | |
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steward
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n.乘务员,服务员;看管人;膳食管理员 | |
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7
recording
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n.录音,记录 | |
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starry
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adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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9
crouching
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v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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10
growled
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v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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11
darted
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v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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12
trekking
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v.艰苦跋涉,徒步旅行( trek的现在分词 );(尤指在山中)远足,徒步旅行,游山玩水 | |
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13
kin
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n.家族,亲属,血缘关系;adj.亲属关系的,同类的 | |
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14
mules
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骡( mule的名词复数 ); 拖鞋; 顽固的人; 越境运毒者 | |
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15
restive
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adj.不安宁的,不安静的 | |
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ripple
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n.涟波,涟漪,波纹,粗钢梳;vt.使...起涟漪,使起波纹; vi.呈波浪状,起伏前进 | |
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17
gallantly
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adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
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18
sentimentally
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adv.富情感地 | |
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19
crab
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n.螃蟹,偏航,脾气乖戾的人,酸苹果;vi.捕蟹,偏航,发牢骚;vt.使偏航,发脾气 | |
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inundated
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v.淹没( inundate的过去式和过去分词 );(洪水般地)涌来;充满;给予或交予(太多事物)使难以应付 | |
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21
rumours
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n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 );风闻;谣言;谣传 | |
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22
remarkable
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adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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23
gems
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growth; economy; management; and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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24
sensational
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adj.使人感动的,非常好的,轰动的,耸人听闻的 | |
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25
remains
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n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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26
prosecute
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vt.告发;进行;vi.告发,起诉,作检察官 | |
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27
enlisted
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adj.应募入伍的v.(使)入伍, (使)参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 );获得(帮助或支持) | |
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28
gasp
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n.喘息,气喘;v.喘息;气吁吁他说 | |
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29
standing
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n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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doorway
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n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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31
scrutiny
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n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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abruptly
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adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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