"Forgive me for pelting you with questions, but did you see Mr. Heath
that evening?"

"Now, what _are_ you trying to get out of me, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath
tell you that he had seen me?"

Hartley stared at his feet.

"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might
help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not
that evening."

Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly
mirthful or pleasant.

"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do
. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride
through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite
impossible for me to say."

"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?"

"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't
told me a word yourself."

"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from
Mhtoon Pah?"

"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner.