The colour upon her face, the interest, the sympathy of her eyes gave him the answer.

This was the woman, then, whose image stood before Shere Ali's memories and hindered him from marrying one of his own race! Just with that sympathy and that keen interest does a woman look upon the man who loves her and whose love she does not return.

Moreover, there was Linforth's hesitation.

Linforth had admitted there was an Englishwoman for whom Shere Ali cared, had admitted it reluctantly, had extenuated her thoughtlessness, had pleaded for her.

Oh, without a doubt Mrs.Oliver was the woman! There flashed before Ralston's eyes the picture of Linforth standing in the hall, turning over the cords and the cotton pad and the thick cloth.
Ralston looked down again upon him from the gallery and heard his voice, saying in a whisper: "It can't be he! It can't be he!" What would Linforth say when he knew that Shere Ali was lurking in Peshawur?
Ralston was still gazing at Shere Ali when the man behind the Prince made a movement.