Without a word he gave her the telegram.

“Oh Frank!” she gasped, and sank overwhelmed into a chair, letting the fatal paper flutter to the floor.

He did not go to her but stood by the window, the image of despair, gazing out with unseeing eyes.

“What am I to do?” he asked miserably.

“You must keep your word if she wishes it,” answered the girl bravely.

But the next moment she broke down and, burying her face in her hands, wept bitterly.  He made no move to her; and she rose and went quietly back to her own room.

In the interval that elapsed before Violet’s arrival Mrs. Dermot did not abandon hope, and in spite of her words she attacked Wargrave persistently, trying to shake his resolution.  But to her despair Muriel sided with him and declared that he was right.  So finally Noreen gave it up and vowed that she would wash her hands of the whole affair.

When Violet reached Darjeeling Wargrave met her at the railway station.  Face to face with him her anger died and something of the attraction he had had for her revived.  So she greeted him effusively and all but embraced him on the platform.  Other men seeing the meeting wondered why he looked so miserable when such a lovely woman evinced her delight at seeing him so plainly.  She passed her arm through his with an air of possession and chatted volubly while he watched his servant help hers to collect her luggage.  When she took her seat in the dandy, or chair carried on the shoulders of coolies, and was being conveyed towards her hotel she behaved as though they had not been parted a week, rattled on gaily about her doings in Poona and Mahableshwar and, with all the glories of the Himalayas about her, declared that the Bombay hill-station was far lovelier than Darjeeling.  Wargrave was relieved that she showed no desire to be sentimental and gladly responded to her mood, detailing the forthcoming gaieties and promising to take her to them all.

When they reached the Eastern Palace Hotel and were shown up into her private sitting-room she put her hands on his shoulders as soon as they were alone and said: 

“Let me look at you, Frank.  You have improved.  You’ve grown handsomer, I think.  Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

He did it with so little fervour that she made a grimace and thought “It’s quite time that I came to bring him to heel.  Not much loving ardour about that.  I wonder if he kisses the jungle girl as coldly.”  Aloud she said: 

“Now let’s go down to tiffin.  I’m starving.  Will you please secure a table and I’ll follow you in a few minutes?”

During the meal she chattered gaily, criticised the dresses and appearance of the other women in the dining-room and, chaffing him merrily on his want of appetite, ate a substantial meal herself.  Mrs. Dermot, anxious to befriend him, had thought that she could help him by inviting him to bring Mrs. Norton to tea with her that afternoon.  When during tiffin he hesitatingly conveyed the invitation Violet said: