ing?"

But Ballantyne had overtried her to-night. Her face suddenly flushed and
with a swift and violent gesture she tore at the necklace round her
throat. The clasp broke, the beads fell with a clatter upon her plate,
leaving her throat bare. For a moment Ballantyne stared at her, unable to
believe his eyes. So many times he had made her the butt of his savage
humour and she had offered no reply. Now she actually dared him!

"Why did you do that?" he asked, pushing his face close to hers. But he
could not stare her down. She looked him in the face steadily. Even her
lips did not tremble.

"You told me to wear them. I wore them. You jeer at me for wearing them.
I take them off."

And as she sat there with her head erect Thresk knew why he had bidden
her to wear them. There were bruises upon her throat--upon each side of
her throat--the sort of bruises which would be made by the grip of a
man's fingers. "Good God!" he cried, and before he could speak another
word Stella's moment of defiance passed. She suddenly covered her face
with her hands and burst into tears.

Ballantyne pushed back his chair sulkily. Thresk sprang to his feet. But
Stella held him off with a gesture of her hand.

"It's nothing," she said between her sobs. "I am foolish. These last few
days have been hot, haven't they?" She smiled wanly, checking her tears.
"There's no reason at all," and she got up from her chair. "I think I'll
leave you for a little while. My head aches and--and--I've no doubt I
have got a red nose now."

She took a step or two towards the passage into her private tent
but stopped.

"I _can_ leave you to get along together alone, can't I?" she said with
her eyes on Thresk. "You know what women are, don't you? Stephen will
tell you interesting things about Rajputana if you can get him to talk.
I shall see you before you go," and she lifted the screen and went out
of the room. In the darkness of the passage she stood silent for a
moment to steady herself and while she stood there, in spite of her
efforts, her tears burst forth again uncontrollably. She clasped her
hands tightly over her mouth so that the sound of her sobbing might not
reach to the table in the centre of the big marquee; and with her lips
whispering in all sincerity the vain wish that she were dead she
stumbled along the corridor.

But the sound had reached into the big marquee and coming after the
silence it wrung Thresk's heart. He knew this of her at all