"You mean he's drinking?" he asked in matter-of-fact tones.
The girl nodded.
"Chester was all right until a few months ago," she said. "Perhaps he needs a dose of civilization to help him to realize his folly. I do not think it is good for any one to remain here without a change for four years, as he has done. One cannot blame a man if the finer side of him begins to wear a little thin at the edges when he stays too long. But there were—complications. We wanted to spend a few months in Sydney, at any rate, but Chester felt we could not afford it at present. There is so much to be done on the plantation. I know perfectly well that it has been neglected. In another year or two this should be a profitable venture, and if we left it now, even for a few months, it would slide back badly, for there is nobody I know whom we could leave in charge of the place."
"And you think your brother is probably playing the fool now at Tamba?" the man ventured.
"I am afraid of it," Joan replied reflectively. "There is a Portuguese over there named Moniz whom Chester goes to see. Moniz"—the girl repressed a shudder at the memory of the man—"is an odious creature. He is a trader, of sorts. He is the kind of individual who is open to do anything—even disreputable things—for money. He came over here about a month ago and I did not
