"Well, wasn't she engaged by Sher Singh?" She felt she had scored, and emboldened by the advantage, added recklessly: "If it comes to that, I would sooner believe that Sher Singh——"
"Sher Singh," interrupted Robert angrily. "On the contrary, if he had been here the thing wouldn't have happened. Some rascal took the opportunity of his absence."
"Then, unless it was all prearranged, the thief must have acted pretty promptly," argued Stella, who had arrived at a pitch of provocation that rendered her indifferent to Robert's displeasure. "Perhaps the telegram was bogus?" she continued ironically; "sent to lure the unsuspecting Sher Singh from his post." And with an effort she quelled a ridiculous impulse to add that possibly Sher Singh had borrowed the necklace in order that some member of his family might wear it at the relative's funeral. She came dangerously near to laughter in picturing the scene that such a suggestion would evoke. As it was, her sly attack on the good name of Sher Singh led to mixed consequences.
Robert rose impatiently. "Sher Singh must come back. If a wire goes at once he ought to be here to-night."
Stella repented her imprudence; on the other hand, as Robert strode from the room to fulfil his intention, there was comfort in the fact that at last she and Philip were safely alone for a space. The table servants, at work in the pantry, were well out of hearing; the punkah coolie at his post could not see them.
Philip said breathlessly: "Stella, what are we to do?"
The moments were precious; she answered with haste, though her voice was calm. "One of us must go away. It's the only thing to do. Sher Singh——"
"What has Sher Singh to do with it?"
"He knows, he has been watching us. He would do anything to harm me. Anyway, we couldn't go on like this——"
"It's all my fault," he said wretchedly. "What a selfish beast I have been. I ought to have held my tongue."