And looking round him, suddenly, Luke saw this banquet in a different manner: no longer the ordinary tribute required from the local Chinese community to feast the advent of a new Police Chief, as of any other newly arrived official of the British government; no longer the recognized pattern of the British levy, so much more easy-going than the Japanese one; but the marshalled forces of law and order, and wealth and property, exhibiting their compact and their dependence upon each other, the owners of business and their bodyguards paying, in their own way, the uniformed white Force which was here to protect them.

And between the large array of white-sheeted tables, under the neon lights harshly dispensing vision so crude as to be hostile, there was friendliness but not friendship, laughter but not joy, for beside each man stood a watchful other one, knowing only the law of self-interest, the law of the jungle.

The jungle was never far. Not for Luke Davis. Others might lose it, forget it in a room like this one, looking through the black square of windows into a sky now gorgeously studded with gemlike stars, feeling only the marble floor underfoot. But the jungle was here, at the back of the minds of every one present.

‘I’m sorry, I did not hear,’ said Luke to The Abacus.

‘I said,’ replied The Abacus, ‘that you have the reputation of being pro-Asian now, but of course you’ll change when you marry.’ Her glance, malicious, searched and found Maxine Gerrard, gesticulating as women do in the tropics, talking and laughing loud to prove she was having a good time.

‘The Police are my best friends.’ Quo Boon bent over the Police Chief he had thoughtfully placed at his left, the seat of honour, and filled his small plate with a tender morsel of sea slug. The Chief shivered as he looked at the grey, sponge-like, and expensive blob upon his plate, and smiled politely at it from under his impeccable moustache.

‘Ask me anything. I always do my best. But I expect in return a little understanding of my position … appreciation of my difficulties …’ Quo Boon was genial. ‘We the Chinese who cooperate with you in this country risk our lives all the time. I am afraid you forget it very often, Mr Stallart.’

‘I am sure,’ said the Chief stiffly, ‘that we all appreciate the loyal cooperation with government which you have exhibited in the past, Mr Quo Boon.’

‘And what do I get out of it?’ Quo Boon’s laughter rang out, cheerful, carefree, but his words were incisive. ‘I could do so much more, my personal influence being not inconsiderable … I might even persuade some of those poor young men who go to the jungle rather than take up a glorious career in your Force, to come out … but you won’t give me the chance.’