"Did you move it?"
"Move it, sir?" the man repeated, surprised by the question, the silence, and the strained faces turned to him. "No, sir; certainly not. I saw it when I was handing the tea to--to Mr. Wibberley, I think it was."
"Ah, very well," his master answered. "That is all. You may go."
It was not possible to doubt the man's face and manner. But when he had left the room, an uncomfortable silence ensued. "It is very strange," Burton Smith said, looking from one to another, and then, for the twentieth time, he groped under the table.
"It is very strange," Wibberley murmured. He felt bound to say something. He could not free himself from an idea that the others, and particularly the Indian Civilian, were casting odd looks at him. He appeared calm enough, but he could not be sure of this. He felt as if he were each instant changing colour, and betraying himself. His very voice sounded forced to his ear as he repeated fussily, "It is very odd--very odd! Where can it be?"
"It cost," Lady Linacre quavered--irrelevantly, but by no means impertinently--"it cost fourteen thousand out there. Indeed it did. And that was before it was set."
A hush as of awe fell upon the room. "Fourteen thousand pounds!" Burton Smith said softly, his hair rising on end.
"No, no," said the old lady, who had not intended to mystify them. "Not pounds; rupees."
"I understand," he replied, rubbing, his head. "But that is a good sum."
"It is over a thousand pounds," the Indian Civilian put in stonily, "at the present rate of exchange."