“When does mamma arrive to-morrow?” asked Theo.
“At half-past eleven,” replied Van Oudijck; and, turning to his body-servant behind him, “Kario, remember that the mem-sahib is to be fetched from the station at half-past eleven to-morrow.”
“Yes, excellency,” murmured Kario.
The fish was served.
“Doddie,” asked Van Oudijck, “who was with you at the gate just now?”
“At ... the gate?” she asked slowly, in a very soft accent.
“Yes.”
“At ... the gate?... Nobody.... Theo perhaps.”
“Were you at the gate with your sister?” asked Van Oudijck.
The boy knitted his thick, fair eyebrows: