She was pretty, too, disconcertingly pretty, in spite of the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her face.

There was a delicacy in her looks and in her dress which appealed to him for tenderness.

The appeal was all the stronger because it was only in that way and unconsciously that she appealed.

In her voice, in her bearing, in her eyes there was no request, no prayer.
"I have been to the Palace," he said, "I have had an audience with the Maharajah." "Of course," she answered.

"I shall put no difficulties in your way." He was standing in her own drawing-room, noticing with what skill comfort had been combined with daintiness, and how she had followed the usual instinct of her kind in trying to create here in this room a piece of England.