But the keen-eyed Alan Hawke saw the girl's fascinated gaze.

He noted her virginal bosom heaving in a new and strange emotion.

He marked the tender challenge of her dreamy eyes as Berthe Louison's loving soul spoke out to the radiant young beauty only held away from her heart by the stern old skeleton at the feast.
The long-drawn-out splendors of the feast were over, and the ladies had, at last, retired.

Hawke observed the stony glare with which Johnstone whispered a few words of command to Justine Delande, when the two men sought the smoking-room.
The door was hardly closed upon them when the coffee and cigars were served, when Johnstone, striding forward, locked the door.
"See here, Hawke!" abruptly said the host "I want you to serve me to-night, and to stand by me while this she-devil is in Delhi.

I've got to run down to Calcutta on business for a few days.