to leave early. The prince had puzzled her by referring two or three times
to his hurry, once even going so far as to say good-by, and then not
going. It was as if he expected her to know something that she did
not know, and to give him a cue that he waited for in vain. She felt he
must think her stupid, and the thought made her every minute less at
ease; but Tom's approach, eyed narrowly by Samson for some reason,
seemed to raise the Rajput's spirits.

"If only my husband were here," she said aloud, "but at the last minute--
there was blasting, you know, and--"

The prince--he was quite a young one--twenty-one perhaps--murmured
something polite and with eyes that smoldered watched Tom take a
letter from his tunic pocket. He handed it to Tess with quite a flourish.

"Some one must have dropped this, ma'am."

The envelope was scented, and addressed in Persian characters. She
saw the prince's eyes devour the thing--saw him exchange glances with
Tom Tripe--and realized that Tom had rather deftly introduced her to
another actor in the unseen drama that was going on. Clearly the next
move was hers.

"Is it yours, perhaps?" she asked.

Prince Utirupa Singh bowed and took the letter. Samson with a look
of baffled fury behind the monocle, but a smile for appearance's sake,
joined them at that minute and Utirupa seemed to take delight in so
manipulating the sealed envelope that the commissioner could only
see the back of it.