Ralston did not press the question.
"It's the insolence of the attempt which angers me," he said. "We must wait until Mrs. Oliver can tell us what happened, what she saw. Meanwhile, she knows nothing of those things. There is no need that she should know."
He left Linforth standing in the hall and went up the stairs. When he reached the gallery, he leaned over quietly and looked down.
Linforth was still standing by the table, fingering the cotton-pad.
Ralston heard him say again in a voice which was doubtful now rather than incredulous:
"It can't be he! He would not dare!"
But no name was uttered.
CHAPTER XXIX
MRS. OLIVER RIDES THROUGH PESHAWUR
Violet Oliver told her story later during that day. But there was a certain hesitation in her manner which puzzled Ralston, at all events, amongst her audience.