"My friend, I am told----"
But Yasmini broke in, bursting between Ranjoor Singh and the German.
"Nay, let the sahibs go alone into the other room. Neither will
speak his mind freely before company--is it not so? Into the other
room, sahibs, while we wait here!"
Ranjoor Singh bowed, and the German clicked his heels together.
Ranjoor Singh made a sign, but the German yielded precedence; so
Ranjoor Singh strode ahead, and the German followed him, wishing to
high Heaven he could learn to walk with such consummate grace. As
they disappeared through the jingling bead-curtain, the Sikh trooper
followed them, and took his stand again with folded arms by the door-
post. The German saw him, and smiled; he approved of that.
Then Yasmini gathered her thirty curious Northerners together around
her and proceeded to entertain them while the plot grew nearer to its
climax in another room. She led them back to the divans by the inner
wall. She set them to smoking while she sang a song to them. She
parried their questions with dark hints and innuendoes that left them
more mystified than ever; yet no man would admit he could not
understand.
And then she danced to them. She danced for an hour, to the wild
minor music that her women made, and she seemed to gather strength
and lightness as the night wore on.
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