"A Memsahib," Tambusami went on. "She wore a veil and I could not see her face. She was dressed in white."
"Did you notice the color of her hair?" Trent cut in.
"No, Presence; the veil was heavy. But I saw a bracelet—oh, a very beautiful bracelet! It was gold and had a cobra upon it—a king-cobra, with hood lifted!"
If this announcement was startling to Trent, he succeeded quite well in hiding it. He smoked on in silence.
"I could not hear what they said," continued the native. "They left almost immediately. She had a gharry waiting in the road. I did not follow long. Am I a dog that I should run behind until my tongue drips and I drop dead of heat? When they disappeared, I got on a tramcar. Now I am here!"
Trent looked at him closely. "You heard the Memsahib's voice?"
"Yes, Presence, but not—"
"It wasn't familiar?"
"Nay!"
Trent's fingers drummed on the arm of his chair.