"Oh, I dare say," said Kneedrock, non-committally. "He's followed her after five years. Once one gets the virus in one's blood, it's likely to break out any time. So Andrews is at Bath!"
"He seemed to be quite at home."
"Doubtless he is. Nina can make one feel that way. He was very much at home in the Darling bungalow at Umballa. Just before he fired at me he and Nina seemed to be sharing a single chair. You see, I was there on a spying expedition."
"You mean—" queried Carleigh. He couldn't just reconcile Kneedrock and the word.
"I'd heard that Darling was cruel to her and I traveled all the way from Tuamota to the Punjab to find out."
Sir Caryll held his peace, and Kneedrock added: "Of course I found it was the most unwarranted slander. Darling was a saint."
He got up and closed the three windows. Then he poked the coals, and took a place on the hearth-rug with his back to the grate. The dogs still slept.
"So she's amusing herself with Andrews again, eh!" he chuckled. "Recalling those halcyon days of bloodshed, I suppose."
"Perhaps," said Carleigh thoughtfully, "now, after all these years, she'll marry him."
"Oh, no, she won't," flashed from Kneedrock, who was smiling. "She can't, you know."