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magnificent。 Instinctively he cast the people of Zanzibar in the
conventional roles of musical comedy。
His choruses were already in waiting。 There was the Sultan's
body…guard in gold…laced turbans； the merchants of the bazaars in
red fezzes and gowns of flowing silk； the Malay sailors in blue；
the black native police in scarlet； the ladies of the harems closely
veiled and cloaked； the market women in a single garment of
orange； or scarlet； or purple； or of all three； and the happy；
hilarious Zanzibari boys in the color God gave them。
For hours he would sit under the yellow…and…green awning of the
Greek hotel and watch the procession pass； or he would lie under
an umbrella on the beach and laugh as the boatmen lifted their
passengers to their shoulders and with them splash through the
breakers； or in the bazaars for hours he would bargain with the
Indian merchants； or in the great mahogany hall of the Ivory
House； to the whisper of a punka and the tinkle of ice in a tall
glass； listen to tales of Arab raids； of elephant poachers； of
the trade in white and black ivory； of the great explorers who
had sat in that same roomof Emin Pasha； of Livingstone； of
Stanley。 His comic opera lacked only a heroine and the love
interest。
When he met Mrs。 Adair he found both。 Polly Adair； as every
one who dared to do so preferred to call her； was； like himself； an
American and； though absurdly young； a widow。 In the States she
would have been called an extremely pretty girl。 In a community
where the few dozen white women had wilted and faded in the
fierce sun of the equator； and where the rest of the women were
jet black except their teeth； which were dyed an alluring purple；
Polly Adair was as beautiful as a June morning。 At least； so
Hemingway thought the first time he saw her； and each succeeding
time he thought her more beautiful； more lovely； more to be loved。
He met her； three days after his arrival； at the residence of the
British agent and consul…general； where Lady Firth was giving tea
to the six nurses from the English hospital and to all the other
respectable members of Zanzibar society。
〃My husband's typist；〃 said her ladyship as she helped Hemingway
to tea； 〃is a copatriot of yours。 She's such a nice gell； not a bit like
an American。 I don't know what I'd do in this awful place without her。
Promise me；〃 she begged tragically； 〃you will not ask her to marry you。〃
Unconscious of his fate； Hemingway promised。
〃Because all the men do；〃 sighed Lady Firth； 〃and I never know
what morning one of the wretches won't carry her off to a home of
her own。 And then what would become of me？ Men are so selfish！
If you must fall in love；〃 suggested her ladyship； 〃promise me you
will fall in love with〃she paused innocently and raised baby…blue
eyes； in a baby…like stare〃with some one else。〃
Again Hemingway promised。 He bowed gallantly。 〃That will be quite
easy；〃 he said。
Her ladyship smiled； but Hemingway did not see the smile。 He was
looking past her at a girl from home； who came across the terrace
carrying in her hand a stenographer's note…book。
Lady Firth followed the direction of his eyes and saw the look in
them。 She exclaimed with dismay：
〃Already！ Already he deserts me； even before the ink is dry on
the paper。〃
She drew the note…book from Mrs。 Adair's fingers and dropped it
under the tea…table。
〃Letters must wait； my child；〃 she declared。
〃But Sir George〃 protested the girl。
〃Sir George must wait； too；〃 continued his wife； 〃the Foreign Office
must wait； the British Empire must wait until you have had your tea。〃
The girl laughed helplessly。 As though assured her fellow
countryman would comprehend； she turned to him。
〃They're so exactly like what you want them to be；〃 she said〃I
mean about their tea！〃
Hemingway smiled back with such intimate understanding that
Lady Firth glanced up inquiringly。
〃Have you met Mrs。 Adair already？〃 she asked。
〃No；〃 said Hemingway； 〃but I have been trying to meet her for
thirty years。〃
Perplexed； the Englishwoman frowned； and then； with delight at
her own perspicuity； laughed aloud。
〃I know；〃 she cried； 〃in your country you are what they call a
'hustler'！ Is that right？〃 She waved them away。 〃Take Mrs。 Adair
over there；〃 she commanded； 〃and tell her all the news from home。
Tell her about the railroad accidents and 'washouts' and the
latest thing in lynching。〃
The young people stretched out in long wicker chairs in the shade
of a tree covered with purple flowers。 On a perch at one side of
them an orang…outang in a steel belt was combing the whiskers of
her infant daughter； at their feet what looked like two chow puppies；
but which happened to be Lady Firth's pet lions； were chewing each
other's toothless gums； and in the immediate foreground the hospital
nurses were defying the sun at tennis while the Sultan's band played
selections from a Gaiety success of many years in the past。 With these
surroundings it was difficult to talk of home。 Nor on any later occasions；
except through inadvertence； did they talk of home。
For the reasons already stated； it amused Hemingway to volunteer
no confidences。 On account of what that same evening Harris told
him of Mrs。 Adair； he asked none。
Harris himself was a young man in no way inclined to withhold
confidences。 He enjoyed giving out information。 He enjoyed
talking about himself； his duties； the other consuls； the Zanzibaris；
and his native State of Iowa。 So long as he was permitted to talk；
the listener could select the subject。 But； combined with his loquacity；
Hemingway had found him kind…hearted； intelligent； observing； and
the call of a common country had got them quickly together。
Hemingway was quite conscious that the girl he had seen but once
had impressed him out of all proportion to what he knew of her。
She seemed too good to be true。 And he tried to persuade himself
that after eight months in the hinterland among hippos and zebras
any reasonably attractive girl would have proved equally disturbing。
But he was not convinced。 He did not wish to be convinced。 He
assured himself that had he met Mrs。 Adair at home among hundreds
of others he would have recognized her as a woman of exceptional
character； as one especially charming。 He wanted to justify this
idea of her； he wanted to talk of Mrs。 Adair to Harris； not to learn
more concerning her； but just for the pleasure of speaking her name。
He was much upset at that； and the discovery that on meeting a
woman for the first time he still could be so boyishly and ingenuously
moved greatly pleased him。 It was a most delightful secret。 So he acted
on the principle that when a man immensely admires a woman and
wishes to conceal that fact from every one else he can best do so by
declaring his admiration in the frankest and most open manner。 After
the tea…party； as Harris and himself sat in the consulate； he so expressed
himself。
〃What an extraordinary nice girl；〃 he exclaimed； 〃is that Mrs。 Adair！
I had a long talk with her。 She is most charming。 However did a
woman like that come to be in a place like this？〃
Judging from his manner； it seemed to Hemingway that at the
mention of Mrs。 Adair's name he had found Harris mentally on
guard； as though the consul had guessed the question would come
and had prepared for it。
〃She just dropped in here one day；〃 said Harris； 〃from no place
in particular。 Personally； I always have thought from heaven。〃
〃It's a good address；〃 said Hemingway。
〃It seems to suit her；〃 the consul agreed。 〃Anyway； if she doesn't come
from there； that's where she's goingjust on account of the good she's
done us while she's been here。 She arrived four months ago with a
typewriting…machine and letters to me from our consuls in Cape Town
and Durban。 She had done some typewriting for them。 It seems that
after her husband died； which was a few months after they were married；
she learned to make her living by typewriting。 She worked too hard
and broke down； and the doctor said she must go to hot countries； the
'hotter the better。' So she's worked her way half around the world
typewriting。 She worked chiefly for her own consuls or for the American
commission houses。 Sometimes she stayed a month； sometimes only over
one steamer day。 But when she got here Lady Firth took such a fancy to
her that she made Sir George engage her as his private secretary； and she's
been here ever since。〃
In a community so small as was that of Zanzibar the white residents
saw one another every day； and within a week Hemingway had met
Mrs。 Adair many times。 He met her at dinner； at the British agency；
he met her in the country club； where the white exiles gathered for
tea and tennis。 He hired a launch and in her honor gave a picnic
on the north coast of the island； and on three glorious and memorable
nights； after different dinner…parties had ascended to the roof； he sat
at her side and across the white level of the housetops looked down
into the moonlit harbor。
What interest the two young people felt in each other was in no
way discouraged by their surroundings。 In the tropics the tender
em