"Still too busy getting on?"

"That's not the reason"--and he lowered his voice to a whisper--"Stella."

Again she laughed in frank and utter disbelief.

"Nor is Stella. That's mere politeness and good manners. We must show the
dear creatures the great part they play in our lives." And upon that all
her fortitude suddenly deserted her. She had played her part so far, she
could play it no longer. An extraordinary change came over her face. The
smiles, the laughter slipped from it like a loosened mask. Thresk saw
such an agony of weariness and hopeless longing in her eyes as he had
never seen even with his experience in the Courts of Law. She drew back
into the shadow of the tent.

"In thirteen days you'll be steaming up the Channel," she whispered, and
with a sob she covered her face with her hands. Thresk saw the tears
trickle between her fingers.

Ballantyne at the fire was looking back towards the tent. Thresk hurried
out to him. The camel was crouching close to the fire saddled and ready.

"You have time," said Ballantyne. "The train's not in yet," and Thresk
walked to the side of the camel, where a couple of steps had been placed
for him to mount. He had a foot on the step when he suddenly clapped his
hand to his pocket.

"I've left my pipe," he cried, "and I've a night's journey in front of
me. I won't be a second."