"No one knows of your rear entrances at the club, I am sure!" It suited the luxurious old jewel merchant to hide the opulence of his secret life, and to veil the graceful lapses of his private code from the sober austerities of a dignified Mohammedanism.
"Look alive now, Ram Lal!" said Hawke, briskly, as he handed his confederate the telegram from Berthe Louison.

"You see that the lady will arrive here tomorrow night! Some one must go down to Allahabad for her! Are you all ready for her coming ?" "Perfectly!" smiled Ram Lal.

"The Mem-Sahib could give a dinner of twenty covers in an hour after her arrival! You know that the bungalow was fitted up for--" he bent his head and whispered to Major Hawke, who laughed intelligently and viciously.
"All right, then! Here is the address in Allahabad, where the lady is to wait for her conductors.

She seems not to wish me to come down.

I will be at the bungalow, then, on your arrival! I will give you a letter for her," said Hawke.