" "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan. This laugh and his looks alarmed her. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. Jonathan had not deceived him. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her.
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