His arm around her, the tall lissome figure of her bent, and her head resting on his shoulder.

I have good eyes and was not mistaken, but I trusted Kildare had not seen.

A quick twitch of his arm, hanging carelessly through mine, told me the mischief was done before I could turn his attention.

By a common instinct we wheeled to the left, and passing into the open strolled back in the direction whence we had come.

I did not look at Kildare, but after a minute he began to talk about the moonlight and tigers, and whether tigers were ever shot by moonlight, and altogether was rather incoherent; but I took up the question, and we talked bravely till we got back to the dining-tent, where we sat down again, secretly wishing we had not gone for a stroll after all.