to borrow a car from Lucy and drive it herself to the station to meet him. As soon as he stepped from the train she saw there was something wrong. His kiss was perfunctory. She started the car, her warm welcoming smile extinguished by his manner, and asked him what was the trouble.
He stared straight ahead for a moment without answering and then, turning to her abruptly, asked, "Carmelita, you may think this a brutal question and perhaps I am a fool to ask it. But it is eating into my mind and I must: Is there anything between you and Rao-Singh that should cause gossip among people around here?"
She was startled. But she managed to say quietly, "I don't think I understand."
"I came down in the smoker and the two men in front of me—brokers I think they are, and I have seen one of them at Lucy's and at—your house—were talking about the summer crowd here. I heard them mention your name. I couldn't help it. They were talking loudly. 'Who is this alleged Indian prince, Rao-Singh, who has taken the Hillary place?' one of them said. And the other answered—a real nasty-mouthed chap he was—I should have liked a chance to smash him, 'The one who has the case upon Carmelita Drake?' And he went on to say with a sneer, 'I don't
