They arrive in Delhi at noon, and Paul is excited to see the India of his imagination. They check into the Hotel Phoenix, and Lieutenant Corson falls in love with the woman riding an exercise bike behind the reception desk, who reminds Paul of his mother. Her name is Hamijolli Chand—Americans call her Jolly. She’s thrilled to see them; she tells them over drinks that night that she spent a happy two years at Johns Hopkins. She believes that TV unites Americans.

Jolly’s husband serves them beef and wine for dinner, but he disappears after setting it out. Beef has to be smuggled into the country, and her husband disapproves. Lieutenant Corson calls her “a brave, remarkable woman” (149). She takes an interest in all the men, complimenting them, but she takes a particular interest in the lieutenant.

Lieutenant Corson tells her that Korea was a regular war with respect from the enemy. But in Vietnam, there’s no respect. The real problem, he says, is that there’s “[n]o heart” (150). Jolly and the lieutenant stay up late talking, until he’s in tears, and they don’t come down for breakfast.

Paul sends postcards home telling his family that the war’s over and that he’s met a girl.