'Keep it, I suppose, till Keene comes to claim it. That won't be long.'
As he rounded the next curve in the road, Mrs. Boynton and Dalel Beg were left face to face with George Keene's watch between them. It had a Chubb's key attached to the chain, and Dalel Beg's eyes, as he stood beside the dandy, clothed in a green velvet coat and European rowdyism, were attached to the key. Gwen's were on Lewis's retreating figure, and there was real jealousy and anger at her heart.
An hour and a half later, George, galloping the hired pony along the Mall after the manner of very young men on hired ponies, pulled up at the side of Mrs. Boynton's dandy in pleased surprise.
'I'm so glad!' she exclaimed before he could say a word; 'there is your watch.'
As she handed it over to him their eyes met, and his took an expression of concern.
'I'm afraid your headache is very bad. You should have been at home hours ago.'
'On the contrary, it is better,' she replied quickly. 'I came by the low road and dawdled. Besides, I had to call at the dressmaker's, and she kept me waiting for ages. By the way, Colonel Tweedie says you are to have another week's leave----'
'So his daughter told me. How good you both are to me! Only, Hodinuggur will be worse than ever--afterwards.'
He would have liked to say 'after Paradise,' but he refrained. She gave a nervous little laugh.
'Don't think of it yet. I hate thinking. It does no good, for one never knows what mayn't happen. You are safe for a week, anyhow.'