"I can not have you go without a word from you," he pleaded. "Just a word to tell me I may——"
"How can you expect—that—I—knowing what I do——" She was stumbling blindly, but persisted: "You, who have deceived others, are deceiving them now—how can I know you are not deceiving me, too?"
"I can not explain." He dropped his head hopelessly, and his voice seemed lifeless. "It is a time of war. You must accept my word that I am honest—with you."
She slowly shook her head and started again for the double doors. "Perhaps—when you prove that to me——." He took an eager step toward her. "But, no, you can not. I will be sailing so soon, and—and you must forget."
"You ask the impossible!" Woodhouse quickly seized her hand and raised it to his lips. As he did so, the double doors opened noiselessly and Jaimihr Khan stood between them, sphinx-like.
Jane, startled, withdrew her hand, and without a farewell glance, ran across the library and through the door to Lady Crandall's room. Jaimihr Khan, with a cold glance at Woodhouse, moved silently to the door of General Crandall's room and knocked.
"It is I—Jaimihr Khan," he answered to the muffled hail from within. "Yes, General Sahib, I will wait."
He turned and looked toward Woodhouse. The latter had taken a cigarette from the case Almer had sent him through Jane, and was turning it over in his hand curiously. The Indian, treading like a hunting cat, began lighting candles. His tour of the room brought him to the captain's side, and there he stood, motionless, until Woodhouse, with a start, observed him.
"Cap-tain Wood-house has been most in-discreet," he said, in his curious mechanical way of speech.
Woodhouse turned on him angrily.