He smiled. "You are clever."
The woman clasped her hands behind her head and regarded him. The night made secret certain of her features, for whereas the moon shone full upon her face, softening the contours, her eyes were hid in dim mystery. Thus, when she looked at him, (as she was doing every second) he could not see her eyes. Which seemed to please her, for she lay back upon the cushions, smiling, an insolently boyish figure.
"Did not you find Tambusami an excellent bearer?" was her next query—and he imagined her eyes were mocking him.
"Quite"—rather drily.
"Yet he cannot equal your Rawul Din," she went on. "He is a perfect example of careful tutoring."
She leaned closer, so close that the warmth of her breath was on his lips, and her eyes, like black opals, burned near to his.
"I wonder, man of wits, how many bearers would think to do what your Rawul Din did, that night at my house?" Then she laughed and drew away; and the musical peals were reminiscent of shattered crystals. "I should be angry—for why did you spy upon me?"
"I don't understand"—this from him.
"No?"—with irony. "Am I so dull that I do not understand when I find a pool of wine under a divan? Oh, he was clever, very clever; but I was more clever!"
Trent wondered how much she knew. He felt sure she could not have guessed the truth, for the discovery that Delhi was keeping a finger on her would undoubtedly have angered her.