"So you have come to your senses," he said in a low tone. Stella passed
him and did not answer. It was, then, upon the question of that necklace
that their voices had been raised when he reached the camp. He had heard
Ballantyne's, loud and dominant, the voice of a bully. He had been
ordering her to cover her throat. Stella, on the other hand, had been
quiet but defiant. She had refused. Now she had changed her mind.

Baram Singh brought in the soup-tureen a second afterwards and Ballantyne
raised his hands in a simulation of the profoundest astonishment.

"Why, dinner's actually punctual! What a miracle! Upon my word, Stella, I
shan't know what to expect next if you spoil me in this way."

"It's usually punctual, Stephen," Stella replied with a smile of anxiety
and appeal.

"Is it, my dear? I hadn't noticed it. Let us sit down at once."

Upon this tone of banter the dinner began; and no doubt in another man's
mouth it might have sounded good-humoured enough. There was certainly no
word as yet which, it could be definitely said, was meant to wound, but
underneath the raillery Thresk was conscious of a rasp, a bitterness just
held in check through the presence of a stranger. Not that Thresk was
spared his share of it. At the very outset he, the guest whom it was such
a rare piece of good fortune for Ballantyne to meet, came in for a taste
of the whip.

"So you could actually give four-and-twenty hours to Chitipur, Mr.
Thresk. That was most kind and considerate of you. Chitipur is grateful.