"An agent," she answered. "He has an office here in Delhi. The first
man is his clerk, who is supposed to be the leader into mischief;
they have made him a little drunk lest he understand too much. I have
sent a maid to him that he may understand even less."

The second man was closely followed by a third, and Yasmini
smothered a squeal of excitement, for she saw that Ranjoor Singh's
eyes were ablaze at last and that he had sat bolt upright without
knowing it. The third man was dressed like the other two in white
duck, but he wore his clothes not as they did. He was tall and
straight. One could easily enough imagine him dressed better.

His quick, intelligent gray eyes swept over the whole room while he
took two steps, and at once picked out Yasmini as the mistress of the
place; but he waited to bow to her until the first man pointed her
out. Then it seemed to Ranjoor Singh--who was watching as minutely as
Yasmini in turn watched him--that, when he bowed, this tall,
confident-looking individual almost clicked his heels together, but
remembered not to do so just in time. The eyes of the East miss no
small details. Yasmini, letting her jeweled ankles jingle again,
chuckled to Ranjoor Singh.

"And they say he comes from Europe selling goods," she whispered.
"The fat man who is frightened claims to be a customer for bales of
blankets. Since when has the customer been humble while the seller
calls the tune? Look!"

The second arrival and the third sat down together as she spoke; and
while the second sat like a merchant, nursing fat hands on a