I heard her mock him.

I would have doubted him forever if I had heard her praise him, but she did not, and I knew him to be a true man.
Ours is more like the French than the British system; there is more intercourse between officer and non-commissioned officer and man.
But Ranjoor Singh is a silent man, and we of his squadron, though we respected him, knew little of what was in his mind.

When there began to be talk about his knowing German, and about his secrecy, and about his nights spent at HER place, who could answer?
We all knew he knew German.
There were printed pamphlets from God-knows-where, and letters from America, that made pretense at explanations; and there were spies who whispered.

My voice, saying I had listened and seen and that I trusted, was as a quail's note when the monsoon bursts.

None heard.
So that in the end I held my tongue.