But before his eyes stood the picture of Stella Ballantyne standing alone in the dark corridor beyond the grass-screen whispering with wild lips her wish that she was dead; and in his ears was the sound of her sobbing.
Here, it seemed, was another story to add to the annals of Rajputana.
Then Ballantyne tapped him on the arm.
"You're not listening," he said with a leer.

"And I'm telling you good things--things that people don't know and that I wouldn't tell them--the swine.

You're not listening.

You're thinking I'm a brute to my wife, eh ?" And Thresk was startled by the shrewdness of his host's guess.
"Well, I'll tell you the truth.

I am not master of myself," Ballantyne continued.