"Let bygones be bygones, dear old friend," begged Bones.
"And when I asked you to produce the company pay-sheets, which you forgot to bring up to date, you stared at me!"
"It's a gift," said Bones feebly.
"Oh, Bones," said the girl slowly, "you stared at me, too, after I refused to go picnicking with you on the beach."
"All's fair in love an' war," said Bones vaguely. "It's a wonderful gift."
"Have you ever mesmerized anybody?" asked Hamilton curiously, and Bones brightened up.
"Rather, dear old sir," he said. "Jolly old Ali, my secretary—goes off in a regular trance on the slightest provocation. Fact, dear old Ham."
Hamilton clapped his hands, and his orderly, dozing in the shade of the verandah, rose up. "Go, bring Ali Abid," said Hamilton. And when the man had gone: "Are you under the illusion that you made the sentry present arms to you, and Abiboo's woman dance for you, by the magic of your eye?"
"You saw," said the complacent Bones. "It's a wonderful gift, dear old Ham. As soon as I read the article, I tried it on Ali. Got him, first pop!"
The girl was bubbling with suppressed laughter, and there was a twinkle in Sanders's eye. "I recall that you saw me in connection with shooting leave in the N'gombi."