And drawing an envelope from her pocket she tossed it into Honor's lap.
The girl glanced down at it quickly; but allowed it to lie there untouched. She knew that Desmond wrote good letters, and she would have dearly liked to read this one. But a certain manly strain in her forbade her to trespass on the privacy of a letter written to his wife.
"Thank you," she said; "I think I won't read it, though. I don't suppose Theo would care about his letters being passed on to me. I only want to know if things are going on all right."
"Oh, yes; in the usual sort of way. They've had trouble with those wretched Waziris. Two sentries murdered last week; and some horses stolen. Oh! and Mrs Olliver has had a bad touch of fever; and there's cholera in the city, but they don't think it'll spread. What a gruesome place it is! And what a mercy we're not there now. By the way," she added, working her parasol into a crack between two boards, "I met the Kresneys as I was coming home."
"The Kresneys! Here?"
Honor sat suddenly upright, all trace of weariness gone from her face.
"Yes. They're up for six weeks, and they seemed so pleased to see me that—I asked them in to dinner to-night."
"Evelyn!"
"Well—why not?" A spark of defiance glinted through the dark curves of her lashes.