'I don't know what you are talking about,' she said indifferently, 'and I don't want you. Go!' Her Hindustani, though limited, was of the imperative order and suited the occasion; yet it evoked one of Chândni's shrill mocking laughs. 'The mem sahiba mistakes. She is not as I am, a daughter of the bazaars, and if it comes to words Chândni hath two to her one. So I come quietly to ask reasonably for my rights; not to dispute after the manner of my kind. There is no need to tell the mem sahiba the story. She remembers it perfectly. She knows it all as well as I. But this she does not know: The pearls are mine, and I will have them back, or their price in revenge.' 'I think you are mad!' cried Gwen more hastily. 'Go! go instantly, or I will call the servants.' 'That were not wise! Lo! I know all about the papers of safety, which Manohar Lâl gave in exchange for the little sahib's rupees. But the pearls went not once, but twice.' 'Twice!' The involuntary echo had a surprise in it which angered the courtesan. 'Yes, twice! The mem knows that as well as I do. The Ayôdhya pot----' 'Was stolen from me in the palace,' put in Gwen; 'you stole it, I dare say.' Again Chândni laughed. 'If I did, what then? The mem got it again and sent it back through the post for more pearls. But we did not send it thus; we sent it by the little sahib, who gave it to the mem, and she sent the key in return. The papers are about the first pearls. These are the second, and there is no safety paper about them.' 'It is not true!--it is a lie--he never took them--he never gave them to me,' cried Gwen, her courage, oddly enough, failing before what was to her an absolutely novel and unfounded accusation. 'I will not listen! Go! or I will call.' Chândni took a step nearer, lowering her voice. 'What! wouldst let the truth be known; when thou canst conceal it--for ever! Give me the pearls and no one shall know--no one shall cast dirt on the mem, and on the little sahib--no one shall know how he took the bribes for you--no one shall know thou didst beguile him as men are beguiled.' 'I--I did not--it is a lie, I----' faltered Gwen, falling back till Chândni's hand closed like a vice on her wrist. 'Wah! What use to deny it to me? Do I not know the trick? A word, a look, no more. What! do men send bullets through their hearts as Keene sahib did for no cause? Ari, sister! we know better.' The jeering comradeship was too much for caution even though the story of poor George's death passed by her as a wanton lie. Gwen, struggling madly, gave one scream after another for help, and, breaking from her persecutor, turned to fly. At the same moment Rose, who had been into her father's study for a book, burst through the door and stood bewildered at the scene. 'Send her away! She tells lies--lies about me and George--lies about everything. Oh! have her sent away, Rose. Please send her away.'