"It's your friend, Nana Sahib, whom you treat as if he were an
Englishman and to be trusted, that knows where this woman is,
Elizabeth."
A cynical laugh issued from the girl's lips that were so like her father's in their unsympathetic contour: "Yes, one may trust men, but a woman's eyes are given her to prevent disaster from this trust which is so natural to the deceivable sex."
"Elizabeth! you do not know what you are saying—what the inference would be."
"Ask Captain Barlow if he doesn't know all about the Gulab's movements."
The Resident pushed irritably some papers on his desk, and turning in his chair, asked, "Can you explain this, Captain—what it is all about?"
There were ripples of low temperature chilling the base of Barlow's skull. "I can't explain it—it's beyond me," he answered doggedly.
The girl turned upon him with ferocity. "Don't lie, Captain Barlow; a
British officer does not lie to his superior."
"Hush, Beth," the father pleaded.
"Don't you know, Captain Barlow," the girl demanded, "that this woman, the Gulab, is one who uses her beauty to betray men, even Sahibs?"
"No, I don't know that, Miss Hodson. I saw her dance at Nana Sahib's and I've heard Ajeet's statement. I don't know anything evil of the girl, and I don't believe it."