Tess turned swiftly, but all she saw was one of the three beggars down
by the little gate twisting himself a garland out of stolen flowers.

"Now there will be a carriage waiting, and I must leave my horse in your stable."

The beggar held the twisted flowers up to the sun-light to admire his work.

"I must go at once. I shall go to the temple of Jinendra, where the priest,
who is no man's friend, imagines I am a friend of his. He will promise
me anything if I will tell him what to say to Gungadhura; and I shall tell
him, without believing the promises. One of these days perhaps he
will plot with Gungadhura to have me poisoned, being in agreement
with the commissioner sahib who said to you just now that it is not good
to know too much! But neither is it good to be too late! Lend me a
covering, my sister--see, this is the very thing. I shall leave by the little gate.
Send the gardener on an errand. Are the other servants at the back
of the house? Of course yes, they will be spying to see me leave by
the way I came."

Tess sent the gardener running for a basket to put flowers in, and when
she turned her head again Yasmini had stepped out through the window
shrouded from head to heels in a camel-hair robe such as the Bikanir
Desert men wear at night. The lower part of her face was hooded in it.

Provided you wear a turban you can wear anything else you like in India
without looking incongruous. It is the turban that turns the trick. Even
the spurs on the heels of riding-boots did not look out of place.

"You'll sweat," laughed Tess. "That camel-hair is hot stuff."