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 just bounced away and down the verandah stairs."

"Plump, was he?" asked Scarlett. "Wear any sort of hat?"

"No," she reflected. "Little thin—bareheaded. He ran lame but very fast. At the front of the stairs there, another popped up, and both men ran off together. Then a third jumped out from that shrubbery. That was the only one the Sikh saw, for just then his turban came bobbing round the corner. He didn't catch any one."

"Haven't you spoken of all this?" whispered Owen.

"Not a word. Because—because I wanted your advice first, somehow. You see, that wasn't all. Just before the Sikh appeared, another man, a European, stepped out of that shadow by the wall." Laura pointed to a far corner, densely blurred with flamboyer