Mrs. Pollifax on the China Station

from
Illinois.
    ”Is he my coagent?” she blithely inquired. ”Or she?”
    He said with equal cheerfulness, ”I’m told it’s raining today in Hong Kong .”
    ”Then may I ask instead—now that I’ve had more time to go over the list
you gave me—why I’m to carry with me four pounds of chocolate, two pairs of
thermal socks, and such an incredible supply of vitamin pills and dried
fruits?”
    ”It’s just a sneaky way to keep you from taking too many clothes,” he
told her. ”Now don’t you think you’ve asked enough questions?”
    ”Obviously,” she said, and rang off.
    During the next nine days Mrs. Pollifax addressed her Garden Club on The
Care and Feeding of Geraniums, including their propagation from seed, studied
maps and old National Geographies, bought a simple Chinese phrase book for the traveler, and began taking malaria
tablets. She invested in a rough straw hat with a swashbuckling brim, notified
children and friends of her departure, wrote several newsy letters to Cyrus in
Africa, and a separate one to his home in Connecticut explaining that she was off to
the Orient to do a very small job—nothing worrisome at all—for Carstairs. And
on June first she flew off to Hong Kong for her great adventure—in China .

Chapter Two
     
    M r s. Pollifax
picked up a spoon from the dazzling white tablecloth and beamed at the waiter
who was filling her coffee cup. ”Thank you,” she said, glancing down at a plate
that she had heaped with papaya and watermelon from the buffet, and as he left
she thought happily, It’s begun, I’m
here—and in only a few more hours I’ll be entering China.
    She had arrived in Hong Kong the night
before, after what seemed like days of travel, and her first glimpse of the
Orient had been deeply satisfying. The plane had begun its descent over a
fairyland harbor of boats outlined in delicate-colored lights; the shapes of
mountains had drifted past the window, now and then exposing clusters of tiny
white lights at their base—villages, presumably—before the harbor suddenly
reappeared, enchantingly toylike from the sky. There had been a young woman to
meet her at the Kai Tak air terminal, and this had also been a pleasant
surprise: a representative of Markham Tours who introduced herself as Miss Chu,
efficiently bundled both her and her suitcase into a car, and told her that she
would personally appear in the hotel lobby at eleven the next morning to
introduce them all to Mr. Li, their China Travel Service guide. It had been
very soothing to be under the protective wing of Markham Tours because Mrs.
Pollifax’s major concern had been to find a bed and sleep in it for as long as
possible. Two nights in the air—her body did not yield itself happily to plane
seats—had reduced her senses to a state of numbness; after flying across the United States ,
and then across the Pacific, she felt that nothing could excite her except bed.
    It was different this morning after ten hours of sleep; she looked upon
the exotic scene around her with eager interest: at the fresh flowers
encircling the hotel’s buffet, at the refreshingly novel Asian faces. But there
was one English or American face among them: she found herself exchanging
glances with a sullen-looking young man of college age seated alone at a table
nearby. The fact that he did not return her smile but only glowered back at her
did not dismay her at all. She felt that she loved everyone this morning, even
Sullen Young Men; a recovery from exhaustion tended to have this effect upon
her.
    Seeing that it was nearly eight o’clock she removed from her pocket the
red, white, and blue ribbon that Miss Chu had given her last night, and pinned
it to the collar of her shirt for identification purposes. This action appeared
to catch the eye of a bearded, stocky man just entering the restaurant, and he
changed his course to head for her table against the wall.
    ”Good morning,” he said, arriving beside her to extend his hand. ”Glad
to see I’m not the first—my name’s Joe Forbes.”
    It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out, ah yes, the newcomer to
the list, but she bit back her words just in time. ”How do you do, and I’m
Emily Pollifax,” she said, smiling up at him as she clasped the proffered hand.
    He certainly seemed likable: the two most noticeable features about him
were his bristling beard and an amiable air of being at ease. He was strongly
built, not tall but very fit, with a pleasant face.