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"Do you wish to order, sir?" "Granted; but you forget that Isabella was in the room on that night. She might have dropped the handkerchief." "Ah! That is what I wish to learn. Well?".

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Miss Jinny had been quietly removing her outer coverings and as Griffin spoke she dropped her last concealing wrap, and stepped out in turban and embroidered jacket, vermillion girdle and wide, baggy blue trousers whose voluminous folds almost hid the vermillion and gold tips of her curling slippers. A simitar was thrust fiercely through the flaming girdle, and a gaudy hookah cuddled in the crook of her arm, while the bristling whiskers and encarmined cheeks and nose of the weather-beaten seafarer proclaimed a strong masculine personality in striking contrast to the pretty young men Turks and Persians that tittered in feminine fashion all about her. "Pooh, that's as easy as rolling off a log," she said, with a toss of her turban. "If you'd added acetylene and alcohol you'd made it a bit longer." All this was quite unintelligible to Isabella, who looked from one to the other of her companions in bewilderment, not guessing for the moment that she was the bone of contention between them. She saw the suppressed mockery on Etwald's face, and noted also that Maurice, roused by the quiet insistence of the doctor, had much difficulty in keeping his temper. Knowing how her lover disliked Etwald, and fearing lest there should be a quarrel between the two men, she cut the Gordian knot by hastily proposing that they should go up to the house. "Yes, to see you," she replied, with a serious face. "In order to talk with you about my last visit--on that terrible night.".