and stood by while he bargained for
her in Hindustani, an amusing business from her point of view.
Undoubtedly she was beginning to enjoy herself, when he surprised her by
turning from one of these unintelligible colloquies, and offering for
her acceptance a beautifully wrought gold filigree bracelet.
She looked at him blankly, not without a vague feeling of dismay.
"Won't you have it?" he said. "Won't you permit me this small favour?"
She felt the colour go out of her face. It was so unexpected, this from
him--in a fashion, almost staggering. For some reason she had never
regarded this man as a possible admirer. She felt as if the solid ground
had suddenly quaked beneath her.
"I would rather not," she said at last, avoiding his eyes instinctively.
"Please don't think me ungracious. I know you mean to be kind."
"If you really believe that," said Fletcher, smiling faintly, "I don't
see your objection."
The blood rushed back in a burning wave to her face. She, who prided
herself upon being a woman of the world, blushed hotly, overwhelmingly,
like any self-conscious girl.
"I would rather not," she repeated, with her eyes upon the ground.
But Fletcher was not to be turned lightly from his purpose.
"I wouldn't distress you for the world, Mrs. Denvers," he said, "but
don't you think you are a trifle unreasonable? No one expects a woman in
your position to be a slave to convention. I would never have bought the
thing had I dreamed that it could be an offence."
There was a tinge of reproach in his voice, no more, but she felt
inexplicably ashamed as she heard it. She looked up sharply, and the
conviction that she was making herself ridiculous swept quickly upon
her. She held out her hand to him, and mutely suffered him to slip the
bangle on to her wrist.
IV
A curious rattling sound made them turn sharply the next moment, and
even though it proved to be the warning signal of an old snake-charmer,
Beryl welcomed the diversion. She looked at the man with a good deal of
interest, notwithstanding her repulsion. He was wrapped in a long, very
dirty, white _chuddah_, from which his face peered weirdly forth,
wrinkled and old, almost supernaturally old, she thought to herself. It
was very strangely adorned with red paint, which imparted to the eyes a
ghastly pale appearance in the midst of the swarthy skin. A wiry grey
beard covered the lower part of the face, and into this he was crooning
a tuneles
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