r, the very thing that must be religiously stifled and hid,
emanated from her like fragrance from a flower; sharply reawakening his
own temptation to respond--were it only to ease her pain. And there was
more in it than that--or very soon would be, if he hesitated much longer
to clinch matters by telling her the truth; though every nerve shrank
from the ordeal--for himself and her. Running away from oneself was
plainly a futile experiment. To have so failed with her, disheartened
him badly and dwarfed his proud achievement to an insignificant thing.

To the rest, unaware, his triumph seemed complete, his risky adventure
justified beyond cavil. They all admitted as much;--even Vincent, who
abjured superlatives and had privately taken failure for granted. Roy,
in a fit of modesty, ascribed it all to 'luck.' By the merest chance he
had caught Dyan, on his own confession, just as the first flickers of
doubt were invading his hypnotised soul; just when it began to dawn on
him that alien hands were pulling the strings. He had already begun to
feel trapped; unwilling to go forward; unable to go back; and the fact
that no inner secrets were confided to him, had galled his Rajput vanity
and pride. In the event, he was thankful enough for the supposed slight;
since it made him feel appreciably safer from the zeal of his discarded
friends.

Much of this he had confided to Roy, in fragments and jerks, on the
night of their amazing exit from Delhi; already sufficiently himself
again to puzzle frankly over that perverted Dyan; to marvel--with a
simplicity far removed from mere foolishness--"how one man can make a
magic in other men's minds so that he shall appear to them an eagle when
he is only a crow."

"That particular form of magic," Roy told him, "has made half the
history of the world. We all like to flatter ourselves we're safe from
it--till we get bitten! You've been no more of a fool than the others,
Dyan--if that's any consolation."

The offending word rankled a little. The truth of it rankled more. "By
Indra, I am no fool now. Perhaps he has discovered that already. I fancy
my letter will administer a shock. I wonder what he will do?"

"He won't 'do.' You can bank on that. He may fling vitriol over you on
paper. But you won't have the pleasure of his company at Jaipur. He left
his card on us before the Dewali. And there's been trouble since;
leaflets circulating mysteriously; an exploded attempt to start a
seditious '