Her fingers caressed his sleeve.  Words and touch waked a smile in his mournful eyes.  They seemed to understand one another, these two.  To Roy she had never seemed more charming; and his own abrupt volte-face was unsteadying, to say the least of it.

“Hayes would prove a tough mouthful—­even for wolves,” Elton remarked pensively.

“He would!  He’s so securely lacquered over with—­well—­we won’t be unkind. But—­strictly between ourselves, Pater—­wouldn’t you love to swop him for Mr Sinclair, these days?”

“My dear!” Elton reproached her, nervously shifting his large hands.  “Hayes is a model—­of efficiency!  But—­well, well—­if Mr Sinclair will forgive flattery to his face—­I should say he has many fine qualities for an Indian career, should he be inclined that way——­”

“Thank you, sir.  I’d no notion——­” Roy murmured, overwhelmed, as Elton—­seeing Miss Garten stranded—­moved dutifully to her rescue.

Miss Arden glanced again at Roy. “Are you inclining that way?”

The question took him aback.

“Me?  No.  Of course I’d love it—­for some things.”

“You’re well out of it, in my opinion.  It’ll soon be no country for a white man.  He’s already little more than a futile superfluity——­”

“On the contrary,” Roy struck in warmly, “the Englishman—­of the rightest sort, is more than ever needed in India to-day.”

Her slight shrug conceded the point.  “I never argue!  And if you start on that subject—­I’m nowhere!  You can save it all up for the Pater.  He’s rather a dear—­don’t you think?”

“He’s splendid.”

Her smile had its caressing quality.  “That’s the last adjective any one else would apply to him!  But it’s true.  There’s a fine streak in him—­very carefully hidden away.  People don’t see it, because he’s shy and clumsy and hasn’t an ounce of push.  But he understands the natives.  Loves them.  Goodness knows why.  And he’s got the right touch.  I could tell you a tale——­”

“Do!” he urged.  “Tales are my pet weakness.”

She subsided into the empty chair and looked up invitingly.  “Sit,” she commanded—­and he obeyed.

He was neither saying nor doing the things he had meant to say or do.  But the mere beauty of her enthralled him; the alluring grace of her pose, leaning forward a little, bare arms resting on her knees.  No vivid colour anywhere except her lips.  Those lips, thought Roy, were responsible for a good deal.  Their flexible softness discounted more than a little the deliberation of her eyes; and to-night, her charming attitude to Elton appreciably quickened his interest in her and her tale.