And, then, returning in a few moments, he
clasped upon the woman's wrist a bracelet of old Indian gold, whose
flexible links glittered with the fire of a row of old Indian mine
stones. Justine Delande sat mute, as if dreaming.
"Our little secret is now all our own!" he pleasantly murmured.
"Remember! Should we meet at the marble house, you do not know me!
Can you trust yourself? You must--for my sake! This will help you
to remember our first meeting."
"You may depend upon me, whenever you may wish to call upon me,"
she whispered. "I will come!" and then she fled away, with soft,
gliding steps, to regain the safety of her own room before the
trying hour of tiffin.
Major Alan Hawke closed the door, and laughed softly as he threw
himself into a chair. "They are all the same!" he mused. "Not a
bad morning's work! For she will never tell our little secret! And
she will surely come again! She may be my salvation here! Madame
Louison, I now debit you just thirty pounds!" laughed Major Alan
Hawke, as he deftly blew a kiss in the direction of Allahabad. "You
shall pay for this bracelet, and much more! You shall pay for all!
And I'll set this soft-hearted Swiss woman on to watch you, and you
shall pay her well, too! Now, for my old friend, Hugh Johnstone!"
He waited in a most happy frame of mind till his carriage bore him
to the club for an elaborate Anglo-Indian toilet.
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